


Blues: A Year in the Life

by Madame_Beret



Series: Blues & Royals [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2013 Paperlegends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Merlin Big Bang Challenge, Merlin's pov, Modern Royalty, Oxbridge, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 44,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Beret/pseuds/Madame_Beret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin knew starting at the highly prestigious Cambridge University would bring a wealth of new opportunities and experiences. But he had never thought that would include falling in with royalty.<br/>Soon he's sucked into a world where everyone has a title and a duty to uphold. And maybe one or two people are also prats. Quickly, though, he realises one prat in particular might be something</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01 September

**Author's Note:**

> > This story is told almost entirely through Merlin's point of view (although it's not in first person as I've always found that impossibly hard to write) and is a series of events and meetings between Arthur and Merlin throughout his first year at Cambridge University.
>> 
>> This is by no means every moment in their friendship, but it is most of the key ones.
>> 
>> Although British myself, I don't claim to be an expert on anything that's included in this story, so be gentle when it comes to my artistic license. Sadly, I also own nothing that you may recognise.
>> 
>> There are some huge thank yous to be made when it comes to this fic.  
> Firstly the [Paperlegends](http://paperlegends.livejournal.com/) community and the_muppet who has worked tirelessly to make this happen.  
> My beta [Katie](../../../users/the_overlord/profile) who I dragged into this without her realising it until it was too late.  
> And last, but by no means least, I have to thank the fabulous artist I was paired with, [praeparadigm](http://praeparadigm.livejournal.com/). I doubt I've always been the easiest to work with but she has created some artwork that actually made my jaw drop. It's here in the fic itself, or you can find it all at her [masterpost](http://praeparadigm.livejournal.com/727.html).

01 September

He felt his ridiculously large duffel bag clip someone on the shoulder as he pelted down the platform at Victoria Station.

“Sorry!” He called over his shoulder absently.

It had been one of those mornings where everything had gone wrong. His alarm hadn’t gone off – it had always been a bit temperamental, but that’s what you get for shopping at Poundland – and by the time his mum eventually twigged that he should have surfaced from the land of nod by half seven and woke him up, he was already an hour late. There wasn’t any time for breakfast and he hadn’t been able to double check his packing like he’d wanted to before the six hour drive into London from the sleepy Welsh village of Ealdor. There hadn’t even been time to swing by a McDonalds drive thru – not that his mum would have allowed him to eat such junk food anyway.

 

So here he was. He’d kissed his mother goodbye hastily and was dragging his luggage onto the front carriage just as the guard blew his whistle and the train door closed behind him. Merlin’s face was pulled tight as he bent over his knees panting. Someone cleared their throat loudly. He looked up at the first class carriage he found himself in and, staring back at him, was a sea of disapproving faces: old men grumbling, ladies tutting, business men with their heads already back in their laptops and, tucked into a corner, someone in a ratty grey hoodie. Whoever it was had their face hidden by the wide peak of a baseball cap. Merlin could just about make out some sort of crest on the dark blue fabric.

 

Flushed with embarrassment, he started making his way through the carriage, trying not to knock anyone with his three bags. As he got to the end of the aisle he felt long slim fingers wrap around his wrist. He followed the fingers with his eyes, up an arm clad in soft grey, to that blue baseball cap. From underneath the brim an elegant voice softly asked,

“Cambridge?”

“Uh,” he looked around stupidly, as if unsure she was speaking to him, which was stupid considering her hold on his wrist. “Yeah, yeah I’m going to Cambridge. How did you know?” He could almost _feel_ the stranger roll their eyes and they inclined their head towards Merlin’s chest. He looked down. He was wearing his new hoodie with ‘Cambridge University’ emblazoned across the front, which his mum had gifted him the day before. She was incredibly proud of her little boy.

“And the size of your bags give you away as a student,” the mystery voice laughed. “Is this your first year?”

“Yeah.”

He was starting to get more disapproving looks and he just wanted to find his own seat on the train and plug into his ipod for the next forty five minutes.

“Me too. Would you like to join me?”

She was sitting around a small train table with two seats on either side. Merlin noticed for the first time that there was a bag on the seat opposite the stranger who was gesturing to the seat next to it.

“Oh, um. Thanks for the offer but I’ve got a seat in the cheap seats somewhere, I can’t really afford first class.” He always felt a bit awkward talking about money, but he supposed he was going to have to get used to feeling like the poor relation now that he would be spending three years at Cambridge.

“Don’t worry about it,” she was now using her grip on his wrist to physically pull him round the table towards the vacant seat, “I’ll pick up the extra when the ticket inspector comes around. I promise. Please, it’ll be nice to have some new company and a new friend before I even arrive.”

Merlin found himself lowering into the empty seat and trying to arrange his bags around his feet under the table.

“But at least let me see you face.”

The stranger nodded slightly and raised their face until she was facing Merlin. Because when she looked up, she was clearly a she. She was still wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses but from her high cheekbones and the wisp of long black hair across her cheek Merlin could tell she was a she, and a good looking one at that. In fact, what he could see of her looked familiar, almost as if he’d seen a photo of her face somewhere.

 

Merlin felt someone settle into the seat next to him. He glanced up at her through his eyelashes and felt as if he’d seen her in a photograph somewhere too. Or maybe not, he couldn’t be sure.

“Gwen! You are a goddess, thank you!” The dark haired women reached desperately for the cup of coffee held out to her. “Sit down and meet… Oh. I don’t know his name,” she cocked her head in Merlin’s direction.

“Merlin.” He suddenly felt incredibly outnumbered.

“Oh Gana, we should introduce him to your brother.”

“Oh god that would be hilarious,” she giggled whilst simultaneously inhaling her coffee. Merlin felt as if there was some joke he wasn’t privy too.

“I don’t think I caught your name either,” Merlin said.

“You’re hopeless,” Gwen laughed, “and you take off those stupid sunglasses. You’re safely tucked into the corner and you’ve definitely lost Morgause.” She turned to Merlin, “Hi. I’m Gwen, a first year at Cambridge University studying Geography and at Newnham College. And this is Morgana, also a first year but reading Law at St John’s. You?”

He opened his mouth, about to tell her he was doing Anglo-Saxon, Celtic and Norse studies, but the words died on his lips. Morgana had taken off her sunglasses and removed her baseball cap and he suddenly knew why she was so familiar. She was only the bloody Duchess of York, the only daughter of King Uther, not to mention sister to one of Merlin’s top crushes. Read: wank bank. And, apparently, he would be at the same university as her for the next three years. The same college in fact.

Merlin felt pretty stupid for not recognising her earlier. His mum was a huge fan of the royal family, followed them religiously to the point she had even gone down to London and camped out on the Mall to see Queen Igraine’s funeral procession and pay her respects. Merlin had even talked to his mum about the rumours that the Princess Royal would be attending Cambridge this year, that after five years she had finally convinced her father that she needed and deserved a university education just as much as her younger brother. But Merlin had never once entertained that it might be more than just a rumour, surely he should have been sent a National Secrets Act form or something to sign. Yet here she was, Princess Morgana, real as anything and asking Merlin to sit with her no less! Maybe he had missed his alarm clock after all and was still asleep in sleepy north Wales. He pinched himself discretely but no, he was very much awake. His mum would scream when he told her. He struggled to find his voice again with this revelation.

“I’ll be at John’s too.”

He’d done some Cambridge related Googling and learned all the student nicknames for the various colleges; he wanted to fit in with all the students who had Cambridge running though their families.

“Brilliant!” Morgana smiled and, honest to god, clapped her hands in excitement.

It was clear that the real princess was quite different to the one his mum had cut pictures of out of a plethora of magazines. The real one seemed less polished and pristine in her approach to life. That seemed to extend to her look too. In her casual clothes for travelling, her hair up haphazardly in a pony tail and no make up on she still looked beautiful, but in an entirely different, more natural way. She looked _ordinary_.

“And I’m reading the truly nerdy subject of Anglo-Saxon, Celtic and Norse studies,” he continued and ducked his head.

“Hey now,” Gwen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “there’s nothing nerdy about that.” “Yeah, Arthur would have loved to have read something history related if he’d had his way, but Uther thought PPE was the only degree appropriate for a future King and that Arthur studying his own ancestors was a particularly pointless affair. And Arthur will do anything in an attempt to please Uther, even if it means sacrificing what he truly wants from his own life. So be glad you get to study something you really enjoy and are interested in.”

It was surreal; she was talking about the King and Prince of Wales as if they were ordinary people which, Merlin supposed, they _were_ to Morgana.

“All that matters anyway is what you think,” Gwen reassured him.

Merlin could already tell she was a sweet young woman eager to look out for others.

 

It seemed crazy to admit, but Merlin could already imagine becoming friends with these people, good friends. He’d gone from only having Will for a friend to making introductions to the Princess Royal and company! He’d known Cambridge would be full of new experiences but he certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this. He was even more surprised to find he was already starting to relax around them.

 

“So how do you know each other?”

Merlin finally relaxed into his seat (which was much more confortable than the one he’d paid for in second class, he was sure.)

“Well, Gwen’s father, Tom, is Uther’s tailor. Because he’s too masculine to have a stylist,” Morgana winked, “so she basically grew up at the palace and she was more fun to play big sister to than Arthur.” “And his Majesty was very generous when my mother died thirteen years ago and let my father put me in with Arthur and Morgana’s nanny while he worked.”

“So really, we grew up together.”

Merlin smiled.

“That must have been nice. It’s always been just me and mum. I love her, of course, but I always wished there was someone around all the time for me to play with and look out for in the playground, y’know?”

“You could have had Arthur; I never liked having him for a baby brother. He was even arrogant as a child, always knew he was going to be king one day and would lord it about above everyone else.” Gwen sighed as if this was a line of argument she heard often.

“He wasn’t that bad, Morgana. It’s just in the big sister handbook that you’re not supposed to _like_ your brother, just love him unconditionally.” “Yeah yeah yeah. Let’s not start quoting Twilight. So I kind of love the idiot. Let’s move on.”

 

Merlin had so many questions he wanted to ask about Arthur, the royal family, growing up in palaces and the public eye but none of them seemed pertinent to ask, and he was sure several of them would be answered in the coming months anyway. Instead he asked about Morgana’s cap which had caught his eye. Up close he could recognise the gold stitching as the belted logo of Oxford University. He quirked an eyebrow at it,

“Pick up the wrong hat this morning?”

“Oh,” she laughed as she picked up the hat and twirled it in her slim fingers, “it’s Arthur’s idea of a good luck present. He was up to see me off this morning,”

“See, he loves you too,” Gwen smiled.

“and presented it to me with a flourish,” she continued as if uninterrupted. “He thinks he’s funny, so I’m humouring him. I think he just wants to make sure I know where his allegiance lies! And now,” she slapped her hands down on the small train table, “you’ll have to excuse me while I’m really anti-social and plug into my iPod for one last moment of calm before the hectic life of a university student can begin.” Gwen was already pulling a book out of her bag and Merlin nodded in agreement; he could do with a bit of time to process everything and who was he to say no to royalty anyway. Maybe he could slyly text his mum too.

 

***

45 minutes later the train pulled into a very busy Cambridge station. Morgana once again donned her disguise, which didn’t seem so effective now Merlin knew it was her. They spilled onto the platform busting with students. Somehow Morgana led them through the crowds and out of the station altogether. There they came face to face with a truly terrifying woman. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, but Merlin couldn’t be sure, with leather trousers that looked painted on, suspiciously pointy looking heeled boots and Merlin could clearly see the outline of a gun under her jacket. Stood in front of a black Rolls Royce with her arms folded over her chest she looked like the poster for a spy film. And she didn’t look happy.

“You highness,” she moved to open the passenger door, “his majesty is not aware that you slipped your protection again this morning, but once again I was not impressed.” Even her voice seemed sharp and crisp, like the lines of her silhouette as created by her tight outfit.

“Nothing’s ever happened to me, Morgause.”

“Yet.”

Morgana just smiled as she slid elegantly into the car and motioned Gwen and Merlin to follow her as Morgause climbed behind the wheel.

“Can we drop Gwen off first? Then Merlin’s with me at John’s.”

 

***

Merlin’s room at college was amazing. And huge. It may not have been in the beautiful, historic part of the college, but it did have incredible floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the river Cam and polished wooden floorboards that reminded Merlin of home. The room was even big enough to have a corner Merlin could turn where he found an alcove with a desk and there was enough room, despite the double bed, to lie completely spread out on the floor. And it got even better. Rooms were divided into mini corridors of two rooms with a shared bathroom and kitchenette. Merlin’s corridor neighbour was Morgana.

He leaned against the huge window and watched as his breath fogged up the glass and receded again as he took it all in.

 

It was going to be one hell of a year. 


	2. 02 October

 

02 October

Merlin found that he settled into Cambridge and found his place with his new group of friends quickly. The novelty of Morgana being a princess wore off remarkably quickly, which didn’t altogether surprise Merlin who wasn’t as obsessed with royalty in the same way his mum was; he didn’t really see them as being elevated above celebrities in general. And it was soon apparent that Morgana really was here for an education, which she had fought hard for, and wasn’t going to just sail through life on her title, a title which she avoided if she could when with friends. That wasn’t to say she didn’t enjoy the glamour that came with it, it just had to be on her own terms, which Merlin found he had a strange respect for. She was certainly someone you didn’t want to cross!

 

Merlin was keeping up well with his studies, with much thanks to his rather eccentric personal tutor Gaius. At this point he had made it through four weeks at one of the most prestigious universities in the world and was more than a match for the students who had had places reserved for them since birth. (Which wasn’t true, not even for Morgana, but Merlin would never be a fan of those who had be born with a silver spoon in their mouths and took great pleasure in constantly reminding you that they were better – Merlin had met more than a few around the university so far). But he was sure to meet a lot more of such people over the weekend. Morgana’s birthday fell on Halloween (which Arthur apparently used as evidence that she was a witch) which meant she was throwing a huge party for her 23rd. But it was to be a party of royal standards – a masked ball in the ball room of Buckingham palace itself (because technically the king was hosting the party in her honour, but it was Morgana who had planned every last detail out) as was Pendragon tradition for royal birthdays. And apparently the fact it was a masked ball rather than the white tie banquet affairs held for Uther, her brother and even Igraine in her time, made it all a bit more Halloween themed. Apparently. Merlin just thought it made it feel more like a Made in Chelsea party – in fact, he was sure he’d seen such an episode.

 

Merlin had lamented that he had nothing to wear, because this was to be a classy affair so he didn’t think his batman costume would quite cut it (even if it did have a mask). So Morgana had happily dragged him to a specialist tailor in Cambridge to have something made especially. As much as Merlin was already used to her title, he was yet to be used to how much money she had to burn; the Pendragon family was independently wealthy, originally from Spanish gold in the sixteenth century, on top of the not insignificant royal income they were granted. He was now the proud (and indebted to Morgana) owner of a set of black tails, a silk bowtie and a matching pair of silk gloves which made his hands feel clammy when he wore them. She had completed the look, because it was very much a look she had created with minimal input from Merlin, with a traditional venetian mask in red and white, which she said complemented both his skin tone and his hair.

 

All of that was now in a suit bag hanging on the back of his bedroom door. He had travelled down to London with Gwen and was staying in her modest 2 bedroom flat in Hammersmith. He unzipped the bag and looked at the outfit again. It fit perfectly, and he couldn’t deny he looked rather debonair in it (he’d sent a photo to his mum who had agreed) but it still didn’t feel right when he put it on. It was itchy and the collar felt to tight, he was terrified of spilling something on the white shirt or gloves and it all felt too much like a costume – which he supposed wasn’t too inappropriate considering it was Halloween. He was also terrified of meeting so many famous, royal and important people at once. The king would be there. The _king._ And as much as Merlin felt comfortable around Morgana, he was still the king, the head of Merlin’s own country and 15 other sovereign states and their territories as well as being the head of a fifty four member Commonwealth of Nations and then, as if all that wasn’t enough to keep him busy, he was supreme head of the Church of England. As royal as Morgana was she didn’t have any real power, and she probably never would. True, parliament had more power than the king, but he would still be the most important person Merlin had ever met. And there was no doubt that he would meet him because he was Morgana’s bloody escort! He just hoped he could keep his views on legalising gay marriage and modernising the church under wraps around him – King Uther was notoriously conservative.

 

He sighed again and started to take out the many and varied pieces of his costume/outfit. It was coming up to 5 o’clock and guests were expected to be at the ball by 7. It was going to be very different to his past Halloweens trick or treating with Will in their little village where everyone knew everyone else and always saved the best sweets for the sweet little boy and his slightly more manic best friend. Even when they had grown too old to trick or treat they still dressed up in a couples costume each year and handed out Halloween themed baked goods made by Hunith to the children that came a knocking. Will had not been impressed than Merlin would be skipping their tradition. He was even less impressed to hear he’d be spending it rubbing noses with the upper classes. If Merlin was indifferent to the monarchy (except when meeting the head of it face to face) then Will downright detested them. They were, according to him, too elitist, a waste of hard earned tax payer’s money and completely pointless to name but a few of his complaints.

 

Gwen swept into the room and broke him out of his funk. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her pale yellow ball gown. There was a V of delicate diamante detailing at the top of the fitted bodice before the fabric swept into a fuller tulle skirt that swished around Gwen as she walked and billowed out when she twirled. She had swept her curls up on her head and completed the look with a delicate lace style golden mask covering just her eyes.

“Wow,” he breathed out.

She blushed prettily and hid her smile behind her hand.

“I just couldn’t wait any longer to put this dress on and get ready. I know it’s silly because I’ll just be sitting around the house now worrying about getting it creased or my hair collapsing.”

“No,” he stepped towards her and took her hands, “I don’t think you could ever have so little grace as to spoil this dress. You look like a ray of sunshine, which is a cliché in your yellow dress, but it’s true.”  
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth,

“Do you think it’s too happy? I mean, it is Halloween.”

“No,” he squeezed her hands to reinforce his point, “you would look out of place in something that wasn’t cheerful. Besides, this is a ball for Morgana’s birthday before it’s a Halloween party.”  
“You’re right, of course.” She smiled at him, “Now get ready so we can take lots of prom style photos to send to my dad and your mother!”

They both laughed as she breezed out of the small room in a storm of taffeta and satin.

***

By the time they pulled up to the palace Merlin was glad they had left in plenty of time as there was a line of very smart cars snaking up the mall as guests stepped out one by one and were greeted personally by Uther, as the _official_ host. Merlin felt his hands start to get clammy and slippery inside his white gloves and was suddenly infinitely grateful that they would act as a barrier should the king want to shake his hand. He started to jiggle his knee nervously. Gwen placed a comforting gloved hand on it.

“He’s just one man.”

Merlin tried to smile, but it felt too big on his face. She was echoing Morgana’s own words from two weeks ago, but they hadn’t reassured him then and they weren’t reassuring him now.

As their car inched forwards he felt his phone vibrate with a text in his left breast pocket. He fumbled with his shaking hands but managed to pull it out to see a message from Morgana

“Calm the fuck down Emrys. I cannot deal with your nerves on top of seeing Arthur and Uther for the first time in a month and hosting this whole thing. So quit it!”  
He looked at Gwen,

“Did you tell Morgana I was nervous?”  
Before she could answer the phone rattled in his hand again,

“No, Gwen didn’t tell me.”

Freaky. But it was strangely calming to know Morgana was just as nervous as he was, she was just a lot better at hiding it. It was no secret that she didn’t get along with her father and in the past month she’d become accustomed to not living under his thumb so it was bound to be weird for her to be seeing him again and back in the palace she spent most of her childhood in.

***

Eventually they reached the head of the queue of cars. Merlin stepped out first before leaning back into the car to help Gwen out, like the true gentleman his mother had raised him to be. And there he was, the king. He reached forward to take Gwen’s hand and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Gwen! It’s so good to see you again.”  
“Thank you your majesty,” she sunk into a curtsey, “It certainly has been a while.”  
“Too long,” he smiled.

Gwen was clearly at ease with royalty, even if she wasn’t a member herself. It bolstered Merlin’s confidence, but only briefly.

“And who is your young man Gwen? Do we know his parents?”

He flicked his gaze over to Merlin.

“No sir, I don’t think you would. This is Merlin Emrys, a friend of ours from Cambridge. He is at the same college as Morgana, they are neighbours in fact.”

The king reached over and shook Merlin’s hand in a firm grip.

“Emrys,” he mused, “how does one spell that? When was your father at Eton? I may have known him in passing. Unless he was at Harrow?” He mock scowled.

“Oh, no,” Merlin stammered, “my father didn’t go to Eton. I don’t actually know where he went. He left me and mum when I was just three months old. And I just went to the local school in Ealdor.”  
Uther not to subtly dropped his hand,

“And that is?”  
“In Wales your majesty.”  
It occurred to him suddenly that he still hadn’t bowed to the king, so he bent over at the waist but, on the way up, he managed to clip the footman’s tray of champagne with his shoulder sending several crystal glasses tumbling to the ground where they smashed into thousands of people. For a few endless moments no one dared to move until Gwen thoughtfully swept her arm around Merlin to guide him into the place in search of Morgana leaving a stunned and irate king in their wake.

***

A few hours and four glasses of champagne later Merlin was feeling a lot better about the whole situation. He’d lost track of Morgana a few hours ago when she was doing the rounds and greeting all her guests with Gwen. Instead he was dancing with some family friends of hers that he’d been introduced to. Leon, the son of a duke of somewhere or other, was apparently Prince Arthur’s oldest and closest friend and Gwaine, Earl of Cork and Orrery, was a friend of their from Eton and had a wicked sense of humour and lovely brown hair he kept tossing out of his eyes. Merlin had met many stuffy people over the evening and many people who looked like they could be fun but wouldn’t give him the time of day. These two weren’t like that, which admittedly surprised Merlin given their own high status titles and close ties to the Prince. Leon seemed like the strong quiet type who seemed content to sip his champagne and watch Gwaine bounce around like an overgrown puppy. Gwaine was actually pretty against the whole institution of monarchy and heraldry ever since his late father had cared more for his title and lands than his own son.

Merlin couldn’t quite tell if Gwaine was flirting with him, or if that was just his way with everyone. In his tipsy state he turned towards Gwaine suddenly intending to ask him outright. But instead he turned into a rather solid chest, which was covered in a rather expensive tux. A tux over which he sloshed most of his champagne. He rushed to apologise and pulled out his pocket square to start dabbing (rather helplessly) at the wet lapels.

 

“Shit, I am so so sorry mate. Bit too much to drink I think. Should all come out ok though.”

He looked at the face of his victim who had yet to speak, a simple black eye mask was covering most of his face, but Merlin could clearly see his jaw clenched in anger. Behind him he thought he heard Gwaine stifle a laugh.

“Hey,” he might have been slurring his words a little bit by this point, “if it’s not ok I’ve got a mate who can probably pay for it. I mean, she can afford to and she doesn’t seem to mind throwing her money at me so I’m sure she’ll throw some at you too. Not like a prostitute though. You look too grumpy to be a prostitute anyway.”

That did manage to elicit a response from the grumpy blonde.

“Do I know you?”

“Merlin,” he put his hand out to shake but the blonde just looked at it in distain.

“So I don’t know you. We’re certainly not ‘mates’.”

“My bad. You’re clearly too much of a grumpy arse to be a friend of mine.”

“Rich coming from you Clumsy Ears.”

“Bit rude.”  
A pair of blonde eyebrows rose above the mask, almost as a challenge. Still neither Gwaine nor Leon had stepped in to help Merlin, maybe Gwaine didn’t fancy him after all.

“I think I’m allowed to be. You are a guest in my home after all.”  
“Oh fuck off. The king lives here, not you. And I’m friends with his daughter so I would know.”

The guy threw back his head in laughter at that one.

“Why am I not surprised? Trust Morgana to bring in strays.”  
“Oi!” He poked him in the chest, but the blonde was quicker and grabbed his wrist to pull him closer.

“Do you know who I am?”  
“A prat, clearly.”

He reached up with his free hand to tug off his mask. _Oh fuck_. Merlin recognised him _now_. But he refused to bow down and grovel at his feet; regardless of who he was and how blue his blood was he had still been unnecessarily rude to Merlin.

“Oh, I stand corrected, you’re a royal prat.”

At that Gwaine finally did step in,

“Merlin, this is really not an argument you want to get in to. Pendragon will more than happily pull rank.”

 

Begrudgingly, Merlin let himself be dragged away, but he spared one final scathing look back over his shoulder at the stupid prince who, although he was loath to admit it, was handsome as fuck. Even more so in person.


	3. 03 November

03 November

He’d managed to avoid Arthur for the rest of the Halloween, even when Morgana had offered to introduce him, and then he’d beat a hasty retreat sometime before 2am feigning a headache – which all felt very Jane Austen.

But Morgana called the next day with her voice worryingly full of glee. A still slightly hung over and sleepy Merlin had picked up as a last resort to get his mobile to stop bloody ringing.

“Uh. ‘Ello?”

“Merlin!”

He couldn’t help but wince at the pitch and volume of her voice so early in the morning. It was only, he glanced at his alarm clock on his makeshift bedside table of books, three in the afternoon. _Oh_ , not nearly as early as it felt then.

“I love you.”  
“I’m gay,” was all his pickled, sleep addled brain was able to come up with. Great, not that he wasn’t out and proud, this was just a conversation that he usually preferred to have face to face. But that apparently wasn’t a problem for the raven haired princess (and wow did that make her sound like a Disney character).

“I know,” he could picture her making a dismissive hand gesture, “I saw you ogling Gwaine last night. Who is very much single, by the way, if you’re looking for a random hook up; I don’t think he really does relationships in the conventional sense. I’ve heard he’s a really great shag though. And, before you ask, he says he doesn’t believe in labels but I say he’s bisexual so you’re good there.”  
“That’s great, really Morgana, but can we get back to the bit where you say you love me and then I ask you why?”

He was in no hurry to admit that, as sexy as Gwaine undeniably was, it wasn’t the Irish rogue that he plagued Merlin’s dreams the night before. And he _definitely_ didn’t want to confess, to Morgana of all people, who _had_.

“Because of Arthur. He came up to me fuming about my ‘big eared idiot of a friend’ – sorry. I swear I’ve never seen him so riled up and it was bloody fantastic. Gwaine said it was quite a sight to behold: that Arthur did that thing where his chin starts to wobble as he grinds his teeth together. I cannot express how sorry I am to have missed it. But I love you for it. Gwen may have to move over because I might have just found myself a new best friend. She was always far too nice to my idiot of a baby brother anyway. I still can’t believe he’ll rule this country over me someday, over twenty years is really not enough time for that to sink it. No one ever stands up to him and they certainly don’t live to tell the tale. Can’t let all that power go to his head! So _thank-you_!”

“Um, you’re welcome?”  
He scrubbed a tired hand over his face. They may be royal, but the whole family seemed slightly crazy. Then again, that’s generally par for the course with any family. He was surprised there weren’t royal guards beating down his door though, because surely being rude to the Prince of Wales was a treasonous offense. He was relieved they weren’t though. He would have pleaded the fifth (is that even possible in the UK?) or blamed the alcohol, which really wouldn’t have been stretching the truth very far.

Morgana laughed,

“Indeed, but I am very sorry to have missed it so I’m inviting you to another family event in the hope of annoying Arthur some more.”

Merlin sighed,

“I know you’re a princess but I don’t actually exist solely for your entertainment Morgana.”  
Apparently Arthur wasn’t the only royal Merlin had no problem standing up to (for which him mum would have happily skinned him alive), except he actually liked this one – despite what his dick may have to say about that.

“I know,” she did sound apologetic to be fair to her, “I want you to come as my friend too. I think you’ll enjoy this more than my ball; it’s much more low key. Uther’s favourite celebration day is Guy Fawkes night because he sees it as a celebration of royal supremacy or something equally as ridiculous. So he always marks the occasion with a private bonfire and fireworks in the gardens of Buckingham, just friends rather than random dignitaries. He encourages us to invite our friends too, I think he’s rather helplessly trying to build bridges, so I would love you to –”

“Woah, woah,” he cut her off, “if this is the King’s party I really shouldn’t be there because I’m pretty sure he hates me more than Arthur.”

“Ah yes, I heard about the champagne incident.” When she put it so delicately it didn’t sound nearly as bad as it had been. “Just made me love you even more really!”  
He could _hear_ her smile; there really was no love lost when it came to her and her father, all of Britain and beyond knew that, but she had always been incredibly tight lipped as to why.

“Besides, he’ll only be there for about an hour to greet everyone and then he’ll retreat inside with the other golden oldies for a special dinner and leave us young ‘uns to have fun. He even watches the fireworks from the house.”  
Merlin had to stifle a laugh at that because he really didn’t think Buckingham Palace, residence of the British monarch, would ever be anything as ordinary as a _house_.

“Please say you’ll come. Gwaine will be there,” she added in what was clearly supposed to be an enticing voice, except Gwaine wasn’t a deal breaker for Merlin.

“Fine,” he gritted out, “but I am coming for you, and no one else. And you have to promise that I won’t have to speak to the king.”  
Morgana squealed and he had to yank the mobile away from his poor sensitive ears.

“Yes yes yes! Anything, I promise. There’s someone else coming who really wants to meet you, she wants to meet the only other person that can stand up to Arthur. See Merlin, this is why I love you!”

She pressed a loud smacking kiss into the receiver before ending the call.

Merlin dropped his phone onto his pillow and then flopped back against it. He definitely needed a few more hours of shut eye before he could properly contemplate what he’d just agreed to. Or who this mystery woman was.

***

The fifth of November found Merlin skipping his Tuesday afternoon lecture of Norse mythology (he really hoped Professor Gaius didn’t find out, but knowing Merlin’s luck he would and then he’d tell his mother who would chastise him for wasting his Cambridge education) and heading towards Cambridge station. He felt much more comfortable taking the train than the chauffer driven car Morgana had offered. He was still rather intimidated by Morgause anyway.

Morgana had said it was a casual affair so he was dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans, a soft blue Henley, brown hoodie, his winter jacket and his favourite red scarf because winter was starting to set in and it was bloody cold. He had a matching hat and a pair of woollen gloves stashed away in his pocket too. The wellies, a staple of any Welshman’s wardrobe, were forest green and practical.

***

There was a lesser known side entrance to Buckingham Palace through which Merlin arrived and was then quickly taken straight through to the gardens. He was immediately relieved on three counts,

1\. No-one had given his attire a disdainful look

2\. Uther wasn’t greeting his guests at the door

3\. He hadn’t been refused entry

 

He was then promptly abandoned in the gardens by the palace attendant, but it was only a matter of moments before a slim man who looked to be in his forties came over and introduced himself as Marc, the official royal photographer. Just as he was talking Merlin’s ear off about camera equipment and light settings  Morgana finally spotted him and waved him over.

“You look freezing,” he was a bit, “come and get some warmth from the fire.”   
She rubbed his arms to generate heat as she steered him towards the huge bonfire. He faintly registered the sound of a camera shutter behind them.

 

He took a moment to properly look around the gardens as he felt the warmth of the flames lick at his face. It was set out like a smaller version of the fireworks events you might find at the local park. There was a red and white stripped tent providing candy floss and hot dogs, from which delicious smells were wafting, and there were even a few choice fun fair rides dotted around that Merlin would absolutely be trying out later. He could only imagine how spectacular the actual fireworks display later was going to be.

There looked to be around fifty people mingling around in the garden lit by strings of fairy lights, and around half of them looked likely to be friends of the younger royals.

 

Merlin closed his eyes against the flames and breathed in the smoky smell that always reminded him of Christmas in Ealdor. He felt before he saw Gwaine bound up to him and thrust a styrofome cup of hot chocolate into his hands. Merlin opened his eyes and smiled in thanks. Morgana gave them a look.

“I’m going to go and find that someone I wanted you to meet. I’ll be right back. But I can take my time if you want…”  
Merlin gave her the stink eye and she snuck back into the darkness with a crackle of her wax jacket, but not before throwing a sly wink over her shoulder at Merlin.

Before he knew what was happening Gwaine had wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and was gently resting his chin atop the messy mop of inky black hair. He chest pressed very definitely against Merlin’s back. He was pretty tactile. Merlin stiffened for a moment before instinctively relaxing into the embrace.

He’d never really had a boyfriend before, just hook ups and the odd friend with benefits. He couldn’t deny how nice it felt to be held tight in someone’s arms, he imagined this was what it felt like to be loved. It was a warm feeling that came from something other than the tall flames reaching skyward. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Gwaine was charming and devilishly handsome. Maybe shagging Gwaine would be fun, even if he wasn’t into relationships it seemed like they were well on their way to a beautiful friendship and, for whatever reason, Merlin got the feeling sex wouldn’t change that. He snuggled in closer as Morgana reappeared with a beautiful young blonde woman. For a reason he couldn’t identify, Merlin felt his stomach drop at the sight of the Danish princess Elena, Arthur’s fiancée looked every bit the perfect future wife of a country gentleman with her green Hunter wellington boots and a man’s tweed jacket under her wax Barbour. Even her messy plait complemented the look. Everyone knew the story of how her childhood friendship with Arthur had blossomed into a fairy tale romance leading to their engagement eight months ago. Merlin hadn’t thought much of the announcement at the time, but he remembered well the hype that had swept through the nation, and his mother. But seeing the ruby and diamond ring, that had once belonged to Igraine, glint in the firelight Merlin felt something akin to jealousy bubble in his chest. Which was ridiculous because what did she have for him to be jealous of? No private life and the prospect of a lifetime as Arthur’s wife. Thanks, but no thanks as far as he was concerned.

“I just had to meet the man brave enough to stand up to my ogre of a fiancé.” She had a slight Danish accent but it had mostly eroded due to a good English boarding school education. Merlin smiled, maybe they would be great friends after all, although there was a bitter taste on his tongue at that last word. With Gwaine’s help, he launched into a dramatic retelling of the encounter with the prince, much to Morgana and Elena’s amusement.

***

Once Uther had disappeared inside for what was apparently a seventeenth century inspired meal in honour of November the fifth 1605, Merlin felt it was safe to venture beyond the bonfire and try out some of the fairground rides.

Gwaine had gone in search of alcohol, Morgana was making sure she had said hello to everyone and spinning apparently made Elena feel ill, so he was waiting alone to go on the waltzer.

“No lone riders,” the gum chewing ride attendant drawled, addressing both Merlin and the person behind him in the line. Without really thinking, or indeed looking, he grabbed that person’s hand to pull them after him to a car, anxious to just ride the damn thing. The hand was large and warm in his own, soft but with callouses on the palm as if it were the hand of a manual labourer or a very dedicated sportsman. The weight of it felt good to Merlin too, a perfect fit. It wasn’t until he was settled in the car, buzzing with adrenaline, that he let go and looked to see who he’d dragged along for the ride – literally! He almost laughed at the irony when he saw Prince Arthur’s highly unimpressed face. It was too late though; the waltzer was whirring to life and Merlin refused to let the prat ruin his fun. As the ride picked up speed and their car began to twist and rise up and down Merlin found himself sliding all over the polished leather seat. He could _feel_ how wide his smile was as he laughed at the thrill of it all. He looked over at Arthur who was gripping the safety bar so tightly his knuckles were turning white and Merlin could see the tendons in his arms shift beneath the soft wine red wool of his jumper. But despite that his head was thrown back in carefree laughter. Coloured lights blurred into a single stream behind his head, like a long exposure photograph, creating odd colours to dance over his face and highlight his blonde hair in various florescent shades. Merlin had never seen him look less like a prince.

 

All too soon the ride came to an end, the motion sending Merlin flying across the seat into Arthur’s side, bony elbows first, who schooled his features into a scowl.

Literally bouncing with excitement, Merlin latched onto his bicep and pulled him through the crowds to towards the washing machine ride, acting almost on auto pilot. Arthur was too stunned to protest. They passed Elena who laughed like a ringing bell and waved. Merlin waved back wildly while Arthur only managed to raise a hand in her direction, dazed. He could still see lights from the waltzer dancing in front of his eyes. _When had the two of them met?_ He wasn’t sure he trusted one with the other; Merlin had shown his clear disregard to his title and status and his fiancée, as one of his oldest friends, loved to see him squirm. Together they were a recipe for disaster, the disaster being his life and, with Morgana in the mix, he might as well announce his abdication now and hide out in Peru.

 

Speak of the devil and she doth appear. She was also waiting for the ride and joined them in climbing into the washing machine like drum structure. Plastered around the edges of the drum with only a metal chain and gforce to hold them in place as it rose into the sky and started to spin. Merlin was between the two royals, Morgana’s hair whipping at her face and her manic cackling laugh right in his ear. To his left he was gripping onto a side bar with Arthur. Once again he was made aware of how big and strong Arthur’s tanned hands were as they covered his own pale, spindly fingers. He seemed unaware of it though as he screamed in true rollercoaster style.

Merlin felt something shift in his front jeans pocket, whatever it was seemed to be sliding out. _Shit_ , he thought, it was his mobile phone. In all his excitement to get onto the next ride (bit of an adrenaline junkie) he’d forgotten to ‘secure all loose items’. He tried to move his hand off the bar to reach into his pocket and secure the mobile, but the force of the motion (centripetal force maybe? Or centrifugal?) kept his arms pinned firmly in place against the wall of the drum. He couldn’t even move his head to look down. It was definitely coming out of his pocket though. The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion. The phone came completely free of the denim and, because of physics or something, continued in the direction the drum was spinning. It turned over in the air a single time. And then slammed into Arthur’s eyebrow. From there it flew clean out of the drum and into the gardens somewhere. But by this point Merlin’s attention was on Arthur and the small cut above his eye that was dripping blood that was also flying with the motion of the ride. He was swearing too. There wasn’t much that could be done though. He wasn’t sure Morgana had even realised what had happened.

Eventually the ride slowed to a stop and Arthur stumbled out of the simple restraints, clutching his head.

“You fucking moron. Something hit me. Something like a very small and compact missile.”

Merlin gulped, he may not have been the prince’s biggest fan but that didn’t justify attacking him. Morgana pulled his hand away to inspect the cut.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches or anything, just a bit of a clean up. The wind has splattered tiny drops of blood all over your face, you look like you stood behind someone who got shot,” she had to clutch her stomach as she doubled over with laughter. “It’s not even that funny, but I have never seen you look such a mess! I hope you pass Marc looking like that.”

“I’ll help you clean up,” Merlin mumbled as he lead Arthur away from a still laughing Morgana, “it was my fault anyway.”

“Of course it was. Does trouble follow you or are you just out to insult and assassinate me? I know Morgana has always wanted the crown, but I didn’t think she’d hire a hit man. Especially not such a pathetic one.”

“Oi. I didn’t do this on purpose, maybe it’s a karmic sign or something.”

“Oh yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “and what exactly is my karma trying to tell me?”

“That you should be nice to me, even though I’m so far beneath you.”

Arthur stopped walking, his eyes bugging out,

“ _Nice_ to you? Pot, kettle, black. Status means nothing to me, I wouldn’t be friends with the leader of the free world if he was as rude to me as you’ve been!”

“Rude!” He cried indignantly, “I’ve hardly spoken twenty words to you. And the champage was an accident, you shouldn’t have got in the way of my dancing.”  
“Dancing? More like the most uncoordinated flailing I have ever seen.”  
“Well we can’t all have been raised with ballroom lessons.”  
“Bit of a stereotype that, don’t presume to know about my upbringing.”  
“I don’t _assume_ anything, I read it in a magazine one,” he added in a quieter voice.  
“Ah-ha. So you’re a closet crazed fan. I should have known it!” He waved a hand at Merlin. “Most of my fans try to fall at my feet though, not knock me off them.”

“I am _not_ a fan. My mum is and she has royal crap all over the house, it’s the only thing to read on the toilet actually.”

“ _Mer_ -lin, if I didn’t feel slightly concussed I would thump you one right now.”

“Right. Life threatening head wound. Terrible face laceration. We should probably attend to that.”

 

There was a small, unmanned, first aid tent that Merlin marched into, followed by Arthur who sat down on the gurney as Merlin rifled through a first aid kit. He turned back to Arthur with a pair of latex gloves that he snapped on, and an alcohol wipe.

“This’ll hurt.”  
“It’s the way you sell it.”

Merlin ignored him and dabbed at the small cut where dried blood was starting to gather. Arthur hissed and winced, which only spurred him on.

“So, clotpole, how’re the wedding plans coming along?”  
“Clotpole?”  
“It’s a very good word thank you very much.”  
“And what is this, hair dresser small talk?”

“Indulge me.”  
For whatever reason, he did.

“Slowly,” he sighed. “It may not seem like it to outsiders but this all feels very rushed to Elena and myself. It’s hard to marry someone you have a sisterly relationship with, and she’s a far better sister than Morgana. I love her, but I’m still waiting to fall _in love_ with her. Father and king Godwyn pushed us to announce our engagement, but neither of us is in any hurry to make it down the aisle. It’s a marriage of duty really, but there are worse people I could be married to. At least I know her.”

Merlin softened his touch as he looked into Arthur’s tired eyes. He hadn’t expected the young prince to open up so much so quickly, but clearly the weight of expectation was a burden he was desperate to share with someone.

“She seems nice though, from the albeit brief conversation I had with her, and she’s certainly beautiful. I sense she could really challenge you and not just bend to your every whim too. I didn’t expect to hear royal marriages were still arranged in this day and age though.”  
“She is beautiful, and she’s witty and intelligent and would make someone an amazing wife. But I’m -” he broke off awkwardly, realising that some secrets _shouldn’t_ be shared with someone you’d only recently met, even if your own sister had every faith in him. “I’m not attracted to her,” he finished lamely.

“And how does she feel?”  
Merlin had taken out a second wipe and was now cleaning the spattered blood off his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It felt like a cool and gentle caress to his face. Arthur had never been touched with such a light and careful hand. He was so close he could probably count Merlin’s eyelashes. He’d never thought about counting anyone’s eyelashes before. The whole thing felt rather intimate.

“The same really. It’s like marrying her brother but she’ll do it for her duty. We have an,” he paused searching for the right word, “ _understanding_ for our marriage. It’s not as bad for her though?”  
“Oh?” He pulled out a plaster, “why not?”  
He shrugged because, secrets. Merlin was tactful enough not to pursue it. He’d clearly seen a very private side to the prince and he’d obviously shared more than he seemed comfortable with if his sudden closing up was any indication. 

“All done, want me to kiss it better?”

 _Yes_ , Arthur thought suddenly, _and I might have bruised my lips too so they’ll need attending to_. Arthur had long known he was gay, and he’d known for just as long that he could never act on it. Not only would his father never allow it, but his only real function as king would be to provide an heir so he needed to be in a position to do so. Hence Elena. Who was, by the way, fully aware of the situation and was more than willing to help. At the very least Arthur would thus be able to marry someone who could give him children, but would turn a blind eye to any dalliances. She actually encouraged it!

Arthur’s sexuality had never really been a problem thus far in that, although he found men sexually attractive, he was yet to find a man he actually wanted to kiss. Because he was picky and didn’t really believe in sex just for the sake of it. It would have to be something serious for him to risk the public image he had worked so hard to create. But Merlin might just be the person to unpick all of that. He had never been challenged before as Merlin constantly did, and he wasn’t afraid to criticise. It was surprisingly refreshing.

Before he could work out how to answer Merlin he had turned to dispose of his latex gloves and was heading out of the small tent.

“Good talking to you. Actually talking to _you_. We should probably get back to our friends though, before Morgana starts pimping me out to Gwaine or something.”

Arthur nodded dumbly and didn’t stop him leaving.

 

 

Back at Cambridge the next day Merlin tripped out of his room on his way to breakfast, only to stub his toe on a box waiting for him on his door step. As he blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes (he really wasn’t a morning person) he reached down to pick it up. It was a new phone, with a note from Morgana.

            _Merlin,_

_Sorry about your phone flying away (and a little bit into Arthur’s face). I’ve got you a new one, partly for selfish reasons – so I can text you during lectures – and partly because I know you’ll be needing a phone._

_You’ve got the same number and apparently all your contacts will download themselves sometime soon. I know it’s a step up from your Nokia brick, but just consider it a gift for the beautiful shiner Arthur now has!_

_Mx_

It was one of the new iPhones which was pretty exciting. He took it back into his room, ripped off the elegant packaging, plugged it in to charge and turned it on. He already had three missed calls from a number he recognised as his mum’s, he’d deal with that later.

He clicked the contacts icon, there was only one. Gwaine. And there was a winky face after his name, so Morgana had clearly put it there. He sighed at her antics.

He did shoot a quick text off to him though, asking if he could send Morgana’s number. He left the phone charging and continued on his quest for a bacon sandwich at the buttery.

He’d almost forgotten about the new phone until he returned to college after his two o’clock lecture with Professor Kilgharrah. It was on his pillow showing four more missed class from his mum, three from Will (he thinks that’s the number) and two texts from Gwaine. The most recent was an invite for a drink when he was next in Cambridge, but it was the first text that Merlin opened. It was just eleven numbers. He looked up at the clock. Morgana would be in a lecture now and he was sure she would appreciate a quick and hilarious text.

 

_Hey sexy_

**Morgana**

**11:07**

_I’m sorry but who the hell is this? How did you get this number? It’s private_

_It’s me Morgs! You’ve favourite mop-headed Merlin_

**Morgana**

**11:08**

_This is very much not Morgana_

_Oh shit. Who am I texting?_

**Morgana?**

**11:08**

_HRH The Prince of Wales_

_Omg! You even text like a bloody prat_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:09**

_Careful there Merlin. One might construe that as treason_

 

_Oi! Since I’ve got your attention, I should probably apologise for the other night_

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:10**

_You think?_

 

There was a pause in the string of rapidly sent texts.

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:13**

_Well?_

_I should. Not sure if I want to though :P_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:14**

_We still have those royal towers. I could have you put in one_

_Morgana would protect me! She’d save this damsel in distress ;)_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:14**

_I might just put her in there with you. I am first in line to the throne after all_

_But the actual king might protest at that_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:15**

_You’d be surprised_

_?_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:17**

_D/W_

_…_

_Ok… I am sorry btw. Didn’t think that would happen to your face_

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:19**

_Yeah. Well thanks for patching me up. Even if you did cause it_

_There we go. Was that so hard for you?_

_  
_ **His Royal Pratness**

**11:20**

_Yes._

**His Royal Pratness**

**11:20**

_Must dash. I have a meeting with the pm. Good day_

 

Merlin rolled his eyes; of course he did. He sent one final text to Gwaine,

_Wrong Pendragon!!_

before finally calling his mum back. She picked up on the first ring having probably been sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring.

“Merlin! Merlin have you googled your name yet today?”  
“No. Nice to talk to you too. But that’s not really something I’m in the habit of doing.”  
His mother sighed as if she’d long given up on ever convincing him to do otherwise.

“Well, have you been to the Daily Mail online? Because you really should.”

Even as he opened up the internet he explained, not for the first time, why it wasn’t a serious or particularly reputable source of news. He stopped mid-sentence though when he saw their top story and the photo accompanying it. He clicked the link and his head began to swim as more photos loaded. His mouth felt paper dry.

“Mum. Mum that’s me.”  
“I know sweetheart,” her voice was softer now, “I know. I think it’s all rather exciting really; I didn’t realise you were _such_ good friends with the Princess. And Prince Arthur too,” she giggled as she struggled to keep her excitement out of her voice. “But I thought you should know. Oh, and Will’s not best pleased that you’ve made ‘ _such_ entitled’ friends, and so quickly, but I think the poor boy is just a bit jealous and missing you something dreadful.”

“Uh,” he didn’t really know what to say to that – which wasn’t something that happened often. “I think I need to read this through and then I’ll call you later.”  
“Of course. I love you Merlin.”

“Love you too mum,” he parroted on autopilot.

 

He put the phone down and dragged his chair closer to the laptop. The article was a report on the royal fireworks party and every photo was, in small print, credited to Marc Davis. He scanned through the article.

 

_Last night was the annual private Bonfire party held by King Uther in the gardens of Buckingham Palace for fifty close friends and family. As ever the official photographs of the evening have been made public and give us an insight into the events. But for the first time a palace insider has spoken exclusively to the Daily Mail and has provided specific details of the evening._

Merlin’s eyes flicked down the article until he came to his own name.

 

_For the first time in several years a new face was present at the exclusive evening festivities. Our insider has identified him as Merlin Emrys, 18, a friend of the Princess Royal from Cambridge University. He is the slim, dark haired male who can be seen in several of the official photographs released by the palace press office earlier today. He seems to have quickly found his place in the circle of friends linked to both Morgana and Prince Arthur. Photos show him laughing with the princess and the Danish Princess Elena, Arthur’s fiancée. He may just have found a way into their hearts too as photos show him wrapped in the arms of the Duke of Cork and Orrery, and both look to be content. It’s long been known that His Grace is pretty fluid when it comes to his sexuality._

_Little is known about Emrys except what can be garnered from his Facebook profile: that he’s single (for now), from the Welsh village of Ealdor where he still lives with his mother and attended local schools before gaining a place at Cambridge to read Anglo Saxon, Celtic and Norse studies. He’s a first year at St John’s college, where it is assumed he met Morgana who is a student of the same college._

_It does, however, get more interesting as the palace insider tells us she saw him lead the young Prince of Wales to an empty tent where the pair remained, alone, for twenty minutes before going their separate ways for the rest of the evening._

_So what went down in the tent? We may never know, but we do expect to be hearing more about Merlin Emrys in the near future._

He quickly opened his Facebook page and increased the security and privacy settings as much as he could. He already had fifty eight friend requests from people he was certain he’d never met and Morgana had posted a copy of the photo of him and Gwaine which she’d tagged them in. He went to his browser and did indeed Google his name. Hundreds of results came up with links to everything from Heat magazine to the Guardian, Wetpaint and Perez Hilton to the New York Times, all with articles similar to the Daily Mail. He slammed down the lid of his laptop, his head swimming. His name was all over the internet all over the world. There were already blog posts and Tumblr pages about him.

He fumbled for his phone. Gwaine had replied.

**Gwaine**

**11:38**

_Shit. My bad. They’re next to each other in my phone_

 

Merlin ignored that for now and opened a new text to the Irishman.

_How do you be famous? Because I’m not ready_

**Gwaine**

**11:43**

_Oh Merlin. The dicks will move on to something new and shiny soon. You’re a new face at the palace so they’re bound to be curious. It helps that you’re adorable! I doubt it’ll last though._

_I bloody hope you’re right._


	4. 04 December

 

04 December

Turns out Gwaine hadn’t been entirely right. Morgana’s residence at St John’s meant tight security at college, but that didn’t stop reporters from accosting Merlin around town. He had to fight his way past photographers to get to his lectures. He was looking forward to Christmas and was glad to be heading home for the holidays and a much needed break. Apparently there had even been a few reporters waiting for him out in Ealdor, but the village had largely rallied together to protect one of their own from the clutches of a life splashed across the tabloids. There had only been one small article, tucked away in the pages of the paper, on what a lovely and friendly young man he was and had always been. Meredith had even added that she was proud of where he was headed with his life now. And if sweet little old ladies wanted their fifteen minutes of fame and were so nice about him, Merlin supposed that was ok.

 

Morgana, Gwen and even Gwaine had all been brilliant about giving him advice to help avoid the press. Morgana had even offered him the use of Morgause which he had politely declined. He even seemed to have struck up a friendship of sorts with Arthur. They texted most days, usually just jibes at royalty (Merlin), ear jokes (Arthur) and complaints about course work load (both of them) and other such light topics, never really delving into feelings. They’d kept it up since going home for the holiday too so far. Although Merlin had to remind himself that, for Arthur, the holidays meant the Sandringham estate which the family was heading to soon. As with Morgana, Merlin was quick to forget Arthur’s royal status.

 

Except for now. With Arthur’s 21st birthday and graduation coming up in the next year and tv audiences home for Christmas and wanting to veg out with mindless programs, several channels had been showing documentaries on the royal family, Arthur in particular. Merlin, slightly against his will, was watching one such documentary with his mum two weeks before Christmas. This one, entitled _Road to 21_ (‘how original’, Merlin thought) recalled the story of his life thus far with commentary from journalists, psychologists and so called friends – although Merlin had yet to meet or even hear of any of them. Gwaine had got involved though and he seemed to be the only person with any actual authority on the subject of Arthur Pendragon. As much as he liked to create a media buzz, he was for once keeping his cards close to his chest and making rather general remarks. He kept pausing to sweep his shaggy fringe out of his eyes, Justin Bieber style.

“Isn’t he dreamy?” His mother sighed.

Merlin gave a non-committal ‘mmm’ in answer and tried not to think about his mum fantasising about Gwaine. He was somewhat uncomfortable watching his sort of friend’s life played out for entertainment, especially now as they discussed his mother’s death.

“Of course it’s affected him,” Gwaine scoffed on screen. “I didn’t know him then but the death of anyone’s ma is obviously going to affect them. Arthur really doesn’t like to talk about it though.”

At least Gwaine knew where to draw the line when it came to divulging the secrets of Arthur’s private life.

 

_Do you actually like Gwaine?_

**His Royal Pratness**

**16:22**

_Yes. He’s a loyal friend and his heart is usually in the right place_

_He’s dishing secrets about you on national tv_

**His Royal Pratness**

**16:23**

_All good I hope_

_Surprisingly yes_

**His Royal Pratness**

**16:25**

_I’ll have to thank him when we get to Sandringham_

 

His mum tutted,

“Who are you texting during family television viewing time?”  
“That’s not a thing mum. It’s Arthur actually.”

“Ooh,” she scooted towards him on the sofa and tried to peer over his shoulder at the screen of his phone, “tell him I say ‘hello’.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his mobile away from prying eyes.

 

_Mum says hi_

**His Royal Pratness**

**16:28**

_Tell her I’m impressed she can live with you for a whole month!_

 

“He says ‘hi’ back.”  
She beamed and he refocused his attention on the tv showing what few press photographs existed of Arthur and the late queen Igraine together. Photos of her holding him on the hospital steps for a photo opportunity. Just hours later she had died from an infection. Merlin could see where he got his good looks from; the queen had been beautiful with her tumbling locks of golden hair and bright sparkling eyes, so much like Arthur’s, as if they held a secret. He was sorry he’d never meet her and that Arthur would never know her because she looked so warm and friendly. Unlike Uther.

 

It was a few days later that Merlin’s world came crashing down around his ears. An ex had some crawling out of the woodwork and was talking to trashy magazines. Edwin had been someone Merlin had hooked up with on several occasions, but he’d never been anything more. Yet in a _Heat_ magazine interview he not only _very_ publically outed Merlin, he also claimed they’d been in a loving and committed relationship right up until he’d upped and left for Cambridge. He was, apparently, now worried that Merlin had his sights set on Arthur. He had _never_ liked Edwin, he’d just been someone for Merlin to mess around and experiment with. As a person he was rude, selfish and generally had a personality as ugly as his scarred face. As a cock though, he’d been available and willing. He was older too and had tended to string Merlin along.

 

It was Will, his oldest and closest friend, who had bought the interview to Merlin’s attention with an apologetic look.

“I may not exactly like who your new friends are, but that absolutely does not mean I think fucktards like Edwin have any right to screw with you.”

Then he’d handed over a copy of the magazine and Merlin have warily turned to the interview. On the opposite page was a blown up copy of an old, slightly blurred photo of Merlin and Edwin in tuxes from the night of Merlin’s Sixth Form leavers’ ball (he’d refused to go stag) alongside photos from the fireworks party, especially the one with Gwaine. Most of the article itself was in Edwin’s own toxic words.

 

_‘Merlin and I met when he was just 17 and began dating shortly afterwards. He told me he’d probably always known he was gay but hadn’t yet met anyone to explore his sexuality with. I suppose I was that person, certainly initially. Given his age and our age difference our relationship developed slowly at first. It wasn’t until the following summer that sweet young Merly came to really see the joy of having a fully functioning sexual relationship. He spent most days in my bed! He’s such a cuddle whore but a bit of a freak between the sheets!’_

 

Merlin slapped the magazine down on to the kitchen table in disgust. Angry tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.

“How fucking dare he? This is just a kiss and tell with absolutely none of the sordid details left out. I don’t want to read a falsified rehash of our so called relationship.”  
“I know mate,” Will moved around the table to place a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “but isn’t it better to at least know what’s being said about you. Otherwise how can you defend yourself against it?”

He begrudgingly reopened the magazine and skimmed over the article, picking out a few choice phrases here and there.

 

_‘…loved him…’_

_‘…really thought he loved me…’_

_‘…devastated…’_

_‘…left suddenly…’_

_‘…forever…’_

 

And then, incredibly, it got worse.

 

_‘I’m so worried about him now; I think he’s going after the prince. I know he was seen in the arms of that Duke but he was always tactile with his friends. He wouldn’t be so obvious and all over him if he actually liked the guy. He prefers blondes anyway. He’s told me on several occasions that he finds Arthur attractive and would happily ‘climb him like a tree’. They disappeared for twenty minutes alone in a tent, which I find highly suspicious. It really wouldn’t surprise me if it came to light that Merlin had tried to seduce Arthur and convince him to take him as a mistress. I just want him to be careful with his heart now it’s no longer in my care.’_

 

Merlin was crying now, hot, fat tears of rage and embarrassment rolling down his cheeks. Everyone would know he was gay. He’d never denied it, but it was just something he preferred to keep on the down low living in a small, rural Welsh village where half of the residents regularly attended church. Not to mention how Edwin had splashed their sex life in the press: making Merlin seem like the bad guy by inventing a loving relationship Merlin had supposedly heartlessly abandoned. As for the Arthur thing, he didn’t know where to begin! It would only make things worse with the paparazzi, but at least he should be able to rely on the people who really mattered knowing the truth. He was coming to realise that’s how things would be from now on.

Will disappeared, only to return moments later with a huge tub of chocolate ice-cream. Merlin smiled through his tears; there was a reason Will was his best friend.

***

Merlin expected to hear from the royals, but his phone stayed silent. Not even Gwaine had texted him. He knew they were altogether at Sandringham for the Christmas period so maybe the service was just really bad. Gwen was in France with her dad and older brother so Merlin couldn’t even be sure she’d _seen_ the interview. His mother, sensing his distress, had tactfully made no mention of it.

 

But then, a few days later, a thick creamy envelope landed on the door mat. It was embossed with the royal crest and had Merlin’s full name written out in cursive loops on the front. It felt heavy and important in his hands. With care he peeled back the flap of the envelope, trying not to rip it. Morgana wouldn’t go to such great lengths to contact him – she could have just sent a text – so whatever was in the envelope had to be something special. Inside was a stiff cream card, like a very smart wedding invitation. Merlin wiggled it out of the tight fitting envelope. A scrap of paper fluttered out and to the floor. He bent to pick it up without taking his eyes off the card. It was an invitation to join the royal party at Sandringham on boxing day and stay for a week. It was personally signed by the king himself. It was an honour to join the family for their intimate festive celebrations, it was usually girlfriends and close family friends who were asked to join the family on the twenty sixth and partake in the annual hunt. Merlin was a tad confused though; surely Morgana would have mentioned something like this when the two last spoke at the end of Michelmas term. He turned his attention to the scrap of paper still clutched in his hand. It was covered in Morgana’s slanted writing.

_We’re all so sorry to hear about that interview in Heat magazine. Know that we don’t believe a word of it and we all feel so guilty that you’re caught up with the press because of us. Uther hopes this invitation will earn your forgiveness._

_Sorry we can’t speak more but hope to see you soon._

_Morgana x_

_We need to talk_

 

That last bit was in different handwriting, which he didn’t recognise. They were fairly ominous words though. From Gwaine perhaps? Or maybe even Leon? Both of them were in Norfolk too.

He put the invitation on the mantelpiece about the fireplace waiting for his mum to notice it when she got home from her job at the village florist. It was always busy at this time of year as people ordered last minute wreathes and poinsettias.

 

Her eyes zoned in on it almost the moment she walked in the door later that evening. She dropped her shopping where she stood and rushed to inspect it closely. Merlin leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest, grinning. He was starting to think his mum would never get used to Merlin being friends with royalty. This invite was certainly more than ever before though; he was being included in the closest circle of friends at the most private and intimate of gatherings. But the look of wonder and amazement on Hunith’s face seemed almost comical given the circumstances. Merlin was only sorry his mum couldn’t come too.

“You don’t mind, do you? I know we don’t really have any post Christmas traditions, but it’s usually just family time so I’d understand completely if you didn’t want me to -”

He was cut off by his mum slapping him across the shoulder with the invitation.

“Merlin! Even if I didn’t want you to go, which _isn’t_ the case, you can hardly turn down an offer from the king. He’s the _king_ ,” she hissed. “Besides, how else will I know the detailed goings on of a royal Christmas and what their private rooms look like?”

She winked. Merlin laughed and pulled her into a hug, completely engulfing her smaller frame.

“Oh heavens,” Merlin pulled back, “what on earth are you going to give them as Christmas presents? Do they even need anything? I should start knitting.”

She bustled out of the room still muttering to herself about wool patterns and colours. Merlin smiled as he put away the abandoned shopping. He was starting to feel like he really _belonged_.

***

A few days later he got a single, short text from Morgana.

**Morgana**

**18:18**

_d/w about transport to Sandy. Got it covered_

 

It was a tad cryptic, but a relief because a train to Norfolk at this short notice in the middle of the holiday would cost a small fortune.

Christmas day itself was a relaxed affair at the Emrys’ house with just the two of them. Hunith had made far more turkey and trimmings than was necessary, as always, and they were working their way through a bottle of homemade sloe gin, as was a Christmas tradition. A second bottle was wrapped and waiting in Merlin’s room to be given as a gift the next day, along with a few more lumpy packages.

 

They were sitting on the sofa with their plates of Yule log, settling in for the king’s Christmas message and then an afternoon of festive television and Christmas specials.

 

Uther filled the screen, sitting by a Christmas tree with a fire blazing behind him he looked for more jolly than when Merlin had had the pleasure of meeting him in person, he looked just as regal though. His pre-recorded message spilled out into the living room.

“Good afternoon, I hope you’ve all had a day filled with joy thus far.

Christmas is a time to be with family and those you love. We also start looking ahead to the fast approaching new year and the changes that it heralds. Changes are afoot in my own family too. My son will be turning twenty one and graduating from Oxford university, at which point he shall assume his full royal duties. My daughter too is at university and will complete her first year next summer. I wish both of them good luck.

 

As ever at this time of year, my thoughts turn to those who are no longer with us, and those less fortunate. In the spirit of giving, I ask that you open your hearts to them. Amidst all the food consumed and presents received today let us not forget that Jesus was the ultimate good Samaritan.

Thank you and a merry Christmas to you all.”

He smiled serenely as the screen faded. Hunith was practically dabbing tears from her eyes as Merlin sat there, unmoved. As nice as the king’s words were, they were pretty empty really. He unfolded his limbs from the sofa to clear their plates.

“More gin, mum?”

Boxing day morning dawned cool and crisp. A thin dusting of snow had settled over night, blanketing the village. Merlin, still unsure as to how exactly he would be getting to Norfolk, was waiting by the door with his phone in hand. It had yet to make a sound though. His mum kept twitching at the living room curtains.

“Merlin!” She flitted over to him, “Merlin a car just pulled up at the end of the path.” There was no masking the excitement in her voice.

He hadn’t actually given much thought as to how they’d travel; it wouldn’t be a short car ride but it certainly seemed practical. They wouldn’t make it there in time for the hunt though. Him mum flung open the front door before Morgana had finished exiting the car with her usual grace. As she opened the front gate and proceeded up the pebbled path, Hunith sunk into a low curtsey. The princess hurried up the path to pull her to her feet and instead kissed her once on each cheek.

“Mrs Emrys,” she took her hand warmly, “it’s so lovely to meet you, but there’s really no need to stand on ceremony here.”

Hunith blushed,

“Hunith is fine, your highness. Can I offer you a cup of tea? And, er?” She glanced nervously over Morgana’s shoulder to where a leather clad Morgause was looking as intimidating as ever. Morgana was torn by the offer.

“I wish we could, really I do. And one day soon Hunith I’ll take you up on that offer and get you to tell me all Merlin’s secrets over a pot of tea.” She winked at him. “But I’m afraid we’re on a rather tight schedule today; the next leg of our journey is waiting and I know Uther would rather we didn’t hold up the hunt today. I really am so sorry about all this, and that it’s so early.”

Hunith waved her hand to dismiss the apology and flapped into action, brushing invisible breakfast crumbs off Merlin and double checking he had all his bags. She brushed his hair out of his eyes. He smiled at her and pulled her in for a hug.

“Be good, you hear me? I know they’re your friends but they are still royalty so treat them as such. And have fun. Don’t you dare worry about me; Gaius has decided to come down and keep me company.”  
She smacked a kiss to his cheek before releasing him into Morgana’s clutches. Wordlessly Morgause gathered his bags to load into the car.

 

Merlin looked around in the soft, buttery leather seats to wave at his mother until they turned off the small country lane and she disappeared from sight. From the depths of her oversized handbag Morgana pulled out a bag of gummy bears and shot it in Merlin’s direction.

“Fancy one?”

***

Rather than heading towards the motorway, the Bently came to a dirt track between two fields. They came to a stop part way up and Merlin felt his stomach drop. To his right, casual as anything and just sitting there in the field, was a helicopter. Merlin was a truly horrible flier and he _hated_ the idea. But if Morgana opening her door and bracing herself against the biting winter air was any indication, the helicopter was how they would be continuing the journey to Norfolk. Merlin followed her out of the car on far less stable legs. She didn’t seem to notice though as she marched towards the ‘copter. Merlin felt his palms and underarms become slick with sweat, despite the air temperature. He hadn’t been in the air since fainting on a flight back from Spain during turbulence three years ago. He could barely feel his feet for a strange tingling sensation as he started to follow Morgana across the field. Slowly. She was up ahead, already waving at whoever was in the cockpit. _Was it even called a cockpit in a helicopter?_ By the time he reached it Morgana was already settled into one of the two backseats with a magazine (not _Heat_ , he was glad to note). He was surprised to see Arthur in the pilot’s seat. He leaned over to offer Merlin a hand up. He smiled too, which was unexpected. Merlin took the hand, well aware that Arthur would be able to feel how clammy it was. He refused to give in to his nerves, especially in front of this prat. Once he was safely seated the prince pushed his aviators up and gave Merlin a concerned look,

“Are you feeling ok?”

His tongue felt like paper and was sticking to the roof of his mouth,

“Yeah, yeah I just don’t like flying. It’s just not natural, sorry.”  
He attempted a light hearted smile but the door slid shut with a definite thud and Merlin jumped.

“It’s just Morgause,” Arthur spoke slowly as if to a spooked child, “she’s loaded your bags so now we’re ready to go. If that’s ok?”

He was giving Merlin a choice, putting him in control of the situation. He nodded jerkily, his breathing becoming shorter and sharper.

“I…I,” he took a gulp of air, “I usually feel better once we’re in the sky. As long as it’s smooth.”

“Ok, so no tricks.”  
Merlin was able to laugh nervously. The blades began to rotate and he started to feel physically sick. He’d never flown in a helicopter before, unlike a plane he didn’t know what to expect from the flight.

As they began to rise, Arthur placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s knee without taking his eyes off the various dials in front of him. He was surprised to find his breathing actually became easier and his heart became less erratic. He was still trembling though. Arthur took Merlin’s right hand and linked their fingers together on his knee. He left his hand their for the entire flight.

***

  
There wasn’t really a welcome party to greet Merlin, instead Arthur was whisked off by his valet to change for the hunt and then the men were off. Merlin stayed behind with Morgana who gave him an abridged tour of the estate before getting him to help her set the post-hunt lunch in one of the several grand dining rooms. They worked mostly in silence, Merlin yawning through the tasks he was set thanks to the early start. He couldn’t tell if Morgana was tired too (Christmas day tended to be a late night no matter who you lived with) or if she was waiting to find the best way to bring something up. He got his answer as they were laying the silverware out together.

“That interview, Merlin I’m so sorry that something like that had to happen. It’s the horrible fate of being a friend of ours and Arthur and I both hate it.”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. It’s one hundred percent the fault of my terrible ex.”

She could hear the anger in his voice.

“Oh Merlin,” she put down the forks she was setting out and pulled him into a hug. It was hard not to want to protect him from the world; he had such a boyish innocence about him and the age gap meant she wanted to look out for him in the same way she would Arthur.

“He’s a prick. I won’t pry, you can tell me about him if you want, but I know all I need to know from his words: he never cared for you. And I think you’re lucky to be rid of him. Arthur was so angry that he wanted to call up his lawyers, but I didn’t think you’d want it to be dragged out.”

“He was angry?”

“Not at you,” she hastened to add. “He’s not angry about your sexuality or anything like that, he didn’t even seem particularly angry that his name was thrown about. No, he seemed angry on your behalf that anyone could be so horrible and selfish. I think he’s actually made a new friend.” She laughed and ruffled his hair as if their mini conversation hadn’t just happened, and went back to laying the table.

Merlin thought again about the words scribbled at the bottom of Morgana’s note, _We need to talk_. Maybe they were Arthur’s words.

***

By the time the menfolk were back from their morning’s hunt, Elena had arrived at the grand house. Girlfriends and other non-family members traditionally arrived on boxing day. Gwaine was an exception due to his lack of a family to spend the holidays with, and Leon had known Arthur so long that they were brothers in all but name.

 

Arthur was sat with his fiancée at the table, laden with meats, while Merlin was next to Gwaine. Conversation flowed loudly and freely, even Uther got involved and Merlin was struck by how relaxed he looked for the first time in ever. This was probably the most private and intimate setting he’d seen the king in – no public, no press, no private photographers and no random dignitaries. Here he might as well not be king, here he was just a father with a very large household to run.

 

It wasn’t until later that evening that Merlin was able to get some peace and abscond himself to the library. That’s where Arthur found him. He settled in the worn leather armchair opposite. Merlin finished the page he was reading before closing the book and placing it on the table next to him.

“Yes?”  
“You’re gay?”

He was looking at the younger man as if he’d never seen him before. That was probably the last thing Merlin had expected him to ask.

“Yes. Yes I think Edwin made that pretty clear.” Arthur scowled at the mention of his name. “But Morgana has known for a while, I thought she might have mentioned it to you when you saw the interview. I’m not a predatory gay though! You and Elena have nothing to worry about; I’m not out to convert you and take you all for myself.”

Merlin thought he saw the hint of a frown on the prince’s face, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“I know that, I’m not as ignorant as you apparently think.”  
“Oh my god,” Merlin rolled his eyes, “are you _jealous_ or something because I haven’t tried to hit on you. Because as sexy as you may look – it’s not as if I can deny it because you clearly know it – I am turned off almost as soon as you open your mouth.”

Arthur actually laughed at that.

“No, that’s not it either. Although thanks,” he winked. “I’m just surprised I didn’t know already. You and Gwaine seemed pretty cosy last month so I assumed the only reason nothing happened between you was because you’re straight. Instead I find myself strangely proud of you for being one of few people to resist his charms.”  
The air between them was considerably more comfortable now. Although the silence stretched on.

“Was that all?” Merlin wondered aloud.

“Oh,” Arthur sat up straighter in his chair, “I just wanted to ask, that is to say I was curious, how did you find out you were gay?”

“I didn’t ‘find out’ exactly, I think I’ve just always known on some level. My mum is really really great and always raised me to believe in love rather than labels.”

Arthur sighed and it sounded almost wistful to Merlin,

“She sounds amazing.”  
“She really is,” he smiled and puffed his chest out slightly, proud of his mum. “So when all the boys in my class starting to play kiss chase with the girls and I didn’t my teacher sent her a letter to ask if I seemed to be developing socially at a normal rate outside of the classroom. My mum was really pissed off at the school for even asking such a thing,” he laughed at the faint memory, “but she sat me down all the same and asked if I was okay at school and if I had enough friends. I told her I was fine and that my friends were fine. And then I told her one of my friends was really pretty and she asked me what their name was, even then she didn’t say ‘her name’. So I said he was called Tom and that we liked to play daddies and daddies in the home corner together. I think that was the day _she_ found out I was gay, it wasn’t until I found out later what gay meant that I could apply the term to myself, but I always knew that I just wasn’t interested in girls in the same way all the other boys were.” He shrugged as if it was simple, and for him it really had been simple. He knew he was lucky in that respect.

Arthur seemed to be deep in thought. Leaving him to his thoughts, Merlin picked up his book again and turned back to the page he had been reading.

 

***

That evening Morgana gathered him and Arthur in her parlour. A small Christmas tree was set up on a table with cold meats, clearly leftovers from the previous day’s Christmas feast. Under the small tree were the packages he had wrapped with his mother on Christmas Eve and two others he didn’t recognise. Morgana gestured for him to take a seat next to Arthur and proceeded to hand out the presents.

“We all did this yesterday, but we couldn’t leave you out!”

Merlin was surprised to note two of the parcels were placed in front of him. They both looked at him expectantly so he picked up the first of the silvery parcels. This one was apparently from Arthur. He pulled back the wrapping to reveal the title of a book. On a blue cover, under a monogrammed crown, he read the words _Debrett's New Guide to Etiquette and Modern Manners_. Morgana sighed at her brother, but Merlin was able to see the funny side

“I thought I was doing alright, you haven’t arrested me yet, sire.”  
“Sire is my father, this is exactly why you need the book,” he replied without missing a beat.

Morgana’s present was bigger, and bulkier. He pulled back the paper on what felt like wrapping to find a Barbour, a proper one that he knew had to cost around £200.

“Don’t gush Merlin,” Morgana correctly interpreted his expression, “the parka you’ve got won’t really be enough for a week in the Norfolk winter. Now,” she clapped her hands, “my turn!”

Morgana, who had never been known for her patience, tore into the first present from Merlin and pulled out a long scarf Merlin’s mum had knitted for her with blue wool to match her eyes (he hadn’t dared ask how she had known which wool would match the eyes of someone she had never actually met).

“Oh,” she started wrapping it around her neck, “it’s so soft and absolutely perfect for the numerous wintery walks we’ll be forced to take this week.”

Her second parcel was a bottle of the sloe gin he’d made with Will. She laughed at the label, a photo of the pair of them when they were younger, and snapped a picture of it on her phone. She procured some glasses from somewhere and poured them all a splash.

“Ooh,” she scrunched up her face, “it’s strong, just the way I like it!”

Arthur didn’t handle it any better, almost coughing up a lung while Merlin swallowed the amber liquid like a pro.

Both of Arthur’s parcels were soft. The first was a scarf to match Morgana’s except in what his mother had called ‘Pendragon red’ which he thanked him for and placed to the side. The second he opened slowly, Merlin biting the skin of his thumb nervously as he did so. He pulled back the paper and looked down at the present in his lap in confusion. He took out the hoodie and continued to give it a bewildered look. Morgana had to bite her lip to hold in her laughter.

“Did… Merlin have you just given me a _Cambridge University_ hoodie.”  
Morgana’s laugh burst free as Merlin gave the prince a shit eating grin.

“I thought you could wear it for the boat race in March.”

 

He probably deserved the cuff around the head Arthur gave him.

 

***

A few days later found all the young guests out of one of Morgana’s promised walks. Although they had quickly deviated from the marked paths to a local pub. Apparently used to seeing the royals, no one batted an eyelid in their direction. In fact they seemed to be locals because the round faced woman behind the bar knew their orders by heart.

“Thank you Mary. Did you have a good Christmas?”

Merlin had never seen Arthur so amiable.

“Good, but exhausting. We had all the little ‘uns over and they wore me out! I’ve never been so glad to get back to my pub!”

***

He was back again a few days later with just Elena. Morgana had roped the boys into helping her to set up for her New Year’s Eve party the following party and Elena had decided to get to know Merlin better. She was completely different to both Arthur and Morgana, lacking that natural air of royalty. She tripped over the carpet as she carried their pints back to the small table and just laughed it off.

They talked about their childhoods and how they both knew Arthur. Merlin expressed his sorrow on her behalf at the prospect of her life shacked to Arthur. She laughed gently before putting down her pint as if she meant business.

“Arty tells me you’re gay.”  
He had yet to hear anyone else use a nickname for Arthur, but he supposed that was just the nature of the relationship between him and Elena.

“Yes,” he always got a tad defensive when people called him out on it, he couldn’t help it. “Yes I am.”  
“I think he likes you more than he lets on.”

Merlin had no idea what direction this conversation was going in but he just raised a sceptical eye in her direction and motioned for her to continue.

“Arthur is like a brother to me.”

 _Odd,_ he thought, _I’m not sure I’d want to marry my brother but we all have our quirks._

“I know him better than almost anyone, so I was surprised when he was telling me all about you when I arrived of Christmas’ Eve. He doesn’t make friends easily given who he is, it’s hard for people like us to trust people are our friends for the right, unselfish reasons. The people you’ve met so far are really the extent of Arthur’s close friends. Now I know you’re a friend of Morgana’s first, but I’ve not seen Arty worry about what to get someone as a Christmas gift in… well ever really. So let him be your friend. I know it’ll be difficult, but I think you’ll be good for him. He really needs a friend like you, someone who can guide him and isn’t afraid to be honest with him.”  
She reached across the table and took his hands,

“Get to know him, let him confide in you. He deserves to be happy and you might just be the person to make him happy. Make him feel safe enough to share his secrets with you, heaven knows he’s got too many secrets.”

Merlin got the distinct impression he was missing half of the conversation, but he nodded all the same.

 

***

The king headed back for Buckingham palace at around seven in the evening on New Year’s Eve, declaring it was ‘a time for the young’. There was a collective sigh of relief as his car crunched over the gravelled drive way and out of the gates. Almost the moment he was out of sight cars started pulling up to drop off guests at the New Year’s Eve party Morgana hosted annually in the grand rooms of the palace.

Among the first to arrive was Gwen. Merlin hadn’t realised how much he’d missed the sweet girl until he saw her again and was compelled to pull her into a hug. Out of the car behind her stepped three men in tuxes.

“This is my brother, Elyan, who most of you know. Elyan, this is Merlin.”

They shook hands. Arthur, Merlin, Elena, Gwaine and Leon were all at the door with Morgana who was greeting her guests. “This is Lance,” she wrapped her arms around him. “We met in France, he was volunteering at a youth centre down the road from out gite. And, get this, he’s in his second year at Cambridge. Churchill no less! I couldn’t believe I’d not seen him around before.” From they way they had their arms around each other it was quickly clear that they had hooked up over the Christmas period. “And this,” she gestured to a thick muscled guy waiting quietly behind her, “is Lance’s friend –“  
“Percy!” Arthur cut her off and stepped forward to take his hand and clap him on the back. Leon copied him seconds later.

“Uh,” Gwen faltered, “yes. He’s at Oxford though.”  
“He rows with us,” Arthur answered the question on everyone’s mind. “He made blues last year and he’s a dead cert to make the crew again this year.”

He nodded, clearly a man of few words.

***

By eleven o’clock the party was in full swing and the grand hall was full of people he didn’t recognise. Gwaine was in a corner chatting to Percy whose tongue had loosened after a few drinks. Elena was being a social butterfly and helping Morgana to charm her guests while Gwen was off giving Lance a tour of the house she had known since she was a little girl.

Merlin was abandoned by his friends, looking into the depths of his golden champagne as he stood alone next to the string quartet. That’s how Arthur found him.

“Bored?”

He looked up, glad to have a familiar face to talk to, even if it was Arthur.

“At least you know people here,” he shrugged.

“Just because I know them doesn’t mean I want to talk to them. They’re mostly Morgana’s friends anyway.”

His eyes lit up with an idea,

“Come with me.”

He took Merlin’s hand in his own and led him through the assembled guests, picking up a bottle of champagne on the way.

 

He guided him out of the house (since when was Merlin calling it just a house anyway) and towards the wooded area of the grounds. It didn’t escape Merlin’s notice that Arthur kept hold of his hand the entire way, not dropping it until they reached a small wooden building. It was just one large room, the wooden planks of it painted blue.

“It’s my mother’s summer house,” his voice was soft at the mention of his mother. “She had it built herself as a place to retreat when all the royal stuff got too much. She may have been a member of the Danish royal family, but I always got the impression she was overwhelmed by how it works here. My father runs this family like a business.”

 

He opened the glass doors and guided Merlin in. Two large beanbags were set out of the floor which they dropped into, the champagne between them.

“I’ve never brought anyone here before. But I suppose,” he looked up at Merlin from under his eyelashes, “you’re not like anyone else.”

He wasn’t sure what Arthur meant by that, but he found his heart rate picking up.

“I’ve not met anyone else who is so happy to challenge me. Everyone one has respect for my title and I didn’t think I minded until you came along. But I find you… refreshing. You treat me like I’m just Arthur, not the prince. It’s not always appropriate,” they both laughed, “but I enjoy being just Arthur.”

 

There was a comfortable silence as they passed the champagne between them, taking swigs straight from the bottle.

 

“Arthur wants to get to know you better.” He scooted closer on his bean bag.

“Elena suggested I get to know you too.”

 

Something hung in the air between them, something Merlin couldn’t put his finger on. This past week Arthur had been different to him, kinder. Something had changed and now he seemed to be making an effort with Merlin

 

“What time is it?” Merlin mumbled.

“Almost midnight.”

He reached behind Merlin to flick a switch on a small wind up radio stood on the dresser. He turned the dials through the static until he found a count down.

They crowded around the device to hear it better.

As it got to ten, they both joined in in soft voices.

10

9

Arthur took a step towards him.

8

7

Merlin looked up into his eyes as Arthur pulled him closer.

6

5

His gaze flipped down to Merlin’s full lips.

4

3

2

Lost in the moment, they leaned towards each other.

1

 


	5. 05 January

_05 January_

_ _

 

Arthur’s mouth felt hot and heavy over Merlin’s own, despite it only really being a touching of lips rather than a full blown kiss. Arthur quickly changed that though. He brought his arms up to wrap around Merlin’s waist to pull him closer as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue over Merlin’s bottom lip. He flailed with his arms before coming to rest them around the blonde’s neck.

It quickly turned from a fairly innocent peck on the lips to something more frantic. Arthur started to tug Merlin’s crisp shirt free from his trousers. Above them they could hear fireworks exploding, their colours flickering through the windows of the summerhouse. Cheers could also be heard from the balcony of Sandringham house as friends and family heralded the new year. 

But in the single roomed wooden building, neither young men were aware of anything besides the other person. Arthur had succeeded in pulling Merlin’s shirt free and was now clawing at the exposed flesh at the small of his back. Merlin was running his hands through Arthur’s already tussled hair, pulling on it as he moaned into the prince’s mouth. He pulled away and started sucking at the long, pale column of Merlin’s neck, further exposed when he threw his head back in pleasure. They stumbled together back towards the musty sofa, neither sure how this would escalate once they tumbled on the sofa. But they never found out. Merlin caught his foot in a tangle of fairy lights, heaped unceremoniously on the floor. He started to fall to the floor, still entwined with Arthur and pulling him down on top. Somehow Arthur flung a hand out to grab the corner of the large oak chest, steadying them mere inches from the floor. Panting hard they looked into each other’s eyes. Something flashed across Arthur’s and he nearly dropped Merlin in shock.

“Shit. Shit shit shit.”

Without really thinking he deposited Merlin on the floral sofa.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

He ran his hands through his debauched hair, tugging a few strands in frustration. Without turning to look back at Merlin he gathered his jacket and stormed out of the small wooden building into the trees.

 

Merlin flopped back against the sofa cushions, a cloud of dust billowing out on impact. His mind was still catching up with what had just happened. And what did it mean? The evening had taken a confessional turn which had culminated in what was almost the best make out session of his short life. Except clearly Arthur hadn’t intended to end the night that way. Merlin felt tears of rejection gather in his eyes, he couldn’t help it. What had he done wrong to suddenly spook the prince. If he hadn’t caught his fucking foot in those fucking wires would Arthur still have his mouth all over Merlin’s body? He groaned in frustration at the boner that was now neglected. He reached down to deal with it himself as quickly as he could.

***

He ended up sleeping in the summer house, scared of running into Arthur if he went back to the main house. The lack of curtains meant the early morning sun filtered through the windows and woke him up. Although he wasn’t hung over (which was a New Year’s Day first) he had a headache from lack of sleep. It had been too cold to sleep properly with just his jacket for a blanket, and what little sleep he had been able to get was plagued by Arthur.

He trudged through the trees and across the grounds, the snow ruining his shoes and getting into his socks. Thankfully there was already a fire roaring in the main hall when he made it back to the house. He didn’t spend long warming himself, just enough to stop the shivering, before returning to his room to pack up his belongings.

 

Morgana joined him a few hours later with a breakfast tray. They ate in silence, Merlin because he was scared of what he might say and Morgana because, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t indestructible and was feeling worse for wear after drinking until two in the morning.

“You’re welcome to stay a few more night,” she squinted at where he was sat with his back to the window, “he really won’t mind. Everyone else is staying until the third. I know Elena enjoys your company too and neither of us want to be left alone with just the many men.”

Merlin blanched at Elena’s name, thinking back to what he’d been doing with her _fiancé_ just hours ago.

“‘M fine. Still got an assignment to finish at home. It’ll be good to pick Gaius’ brain about it before term starts up again. Thanks though.”  
With that he gathered his suitcase and the large gold gift bag he’d put all their presents in, refusing to think about Arthur’s.

 

She hugged him goodbye and he climbed into a town car (no helicopter for him this time) where he nestled down to catch up on his sleep.

***

Merlin itched to text Arthur; to get some answers out of him. But, given how terrified and confused he had looked as he stumbled into the woods, he knew it had to be Arthur who reached out.

 

He did hear from him, eventually. Three weeks later Merlin felt his phone vibrate in his pocket during one of Dr Gaius’ lectures. Discretely he pulled it out of his pocket.

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**13:34**

_Sorry_

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**13:34**

_And sorry for running_

 

All Merlin wanted to do was call him back and actually _talk_ about what had happened that night, but he still had half an hour left of his lecture and by then Arthur may well be with a professor himself. He sighed and resigned himself to wait, watching the clock rather than taking notes.

 

Before Gaius had even finished dismissing his students Merlin was out of the door and dialling Arthur’s number. He sat himself down on one of the benches at the Sidgwick Site and waited for Arthur to pick up. Surprisingly, he did.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Merlin forewent any customary greetings and got straight to the crux of the matter, “just explain what happened. And why it suddenly stopped happening.”

“Because my head suddenly caught up with my actions and my head realised that I was cheating on Elena.”

“Oh.” Merlin wasn’t sure what he’d expected Arthur to say, but it wasn’t that despite how logical an answer it was. Arthur clearly picked up on something in Merlin’s tone because he hastened to add,

“It was nothing you did. It was all my mistake.”  
Merlin inhaled.

“Not that you were a mistake,” he garbled, “I just mean that – fuck. I’ve never done this.”  
Merlin had to laugh,

“It sounds like you’re trying to break up with me.”  
“I’ve never had to do that either.” He took a calming breath and gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “I had been thinking about you ever since that stupid article in _Heat_. You’d captured my attention before, for all the right and all the wrong reasons, and then I find out you’re gay and my thoughts took a slight turn when it came to you.”

Merlin was glad Arthur couldn’t see the blush that was creeping across his cheeks.

“When it was just us in my mother’s summer house it was all to easy to forget I have a fiancée and a country to rule someday. All I could see was you and, well, that combined with the magic of New Year’s to overtake my senses.”

 

It was no confession of love, or even lust really, but it was enough to make Merlin’s heart flutter in his chest. He couldn’t deny it felt nice to be wanted, to be able to make a future king forget about his responsibilities and instead only able to focus on Merlin. He also knew he was now absolutely screwed. If Arthur had been on his mind before this admittance would only serve to make him a more permanent fixture in Merlin’s head. And his dreams. 

 

“But Merlin, you can’t tell anyone. Please. Not even Morgana knows all of this about me and I’d prefer to keep it that way, at least for now. I’ll have to tell her someday, and I look forward to the day when I can, but for the moment I don’t want to become part of speculation and gossip, not even among my friends. Especially not among my friends.” His voice had started to take on a panicked edge, as if he suddenly wasn’t sure Merlin could be trusted.

“I won’t tell anyone. I was very publically outed last month and I wouldn’t want to inflict even a fraction of that feeling on anyone. So your secret is safe with me, but I’ll always listen if you want to talk about any of it.

***

Arthur quickly found that he loved having someone he could talk freely with in regards to his sexuality. He could text Merlin whenever he came across a particularly good looking student at Oxford, they could share porn web links and even talk about articles they had both read in various gay orientated publications such as _The Gay Times_. Although Arthur kept them hidden in a shoe box under his bed, more surreptitious with them than if they were skin mags.

He finally had a gay best friend.


	6. 06 February

06 February

Merlin was surprised to get a text from Gwaine the week before Valentine’s Day.

**Gwaine**

**15:43**

_Hey beautiful, you’ve got yourself a v day date. I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something sexy x_

 

Morgana looked up from where she was draped across his bed, surrounded by open text books.

“Is that from Gwaine?”  
His head snapped up and he gave her a calculating look.

“It might be,” he shielded the phone screen as if she might be able to see it from all the way across the room. “What do you know about it?”

She slid off the bed and slunk towards him where she proceeded to drape her arms over his shoulders. Merlin looked up into her cool blue eyes and was momentarily reminded of Arthur.

“Well,” her voice was honey sweet which was never a good sign as far as Merlin was concerned, “I may have just _mentioned_ to him that you still didn’t have a date for Valentine’s. Which is _tragic_ considering how wonderful you are to us all and how adorable you are. Someone needed to snap you up!”

 

Morgana never ‘just’ mentioned anything to anyone; she meddled. Merlin felt his heart sink. As much as Gwaine wasn’t the noble he was secretly longing to spend Valentine’s day with, he couldn’t deny the small thrill he’d felt at the prospect of being wanted by someone so ridiculously good looking who could probably have any man or woman he wanted. Instead he was asking Merlin out on a pity date. Or possibly out of fear of Morgana. Either way it wasn’t genuine.

Morgana and her freaky sixth sense for Merlin’s feeling apparently picked up on his rapidly deflating mood. She spun his desk chair around so she could look him square in the eye.

“Despite how persuasive I know I am, Gwaine would never do something unless he wanted to. He was looking at you all the time over Christmas!”

Merlin shut his eyes against the barrage of memories that one word brought back. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to enjoy the festive period again.

“And, despite what you may think, he asked me for your number after bonfire night. I didn’t just thrust his number in your direction for my own amusement.”

He wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but he was willing to let it slide for a moment.

“And I thought you liked him too. You didn’t mind being wrapped in his arms that night, and the two of you seemed to be getting along famously up at Sandringham. I thought you both just needed a gentle nudge in the right direction.” Her voice trailed off, clearly sensing she’d missed something along the way. She crouched down to be at his eye level,

“Did I get it all wrong?”

_Yes._

“Do you not want to spend the most romantic day of the year with Gwaine?”

_Not really, no._

“He’s certainly a charmer. To be honest I was just having fun with him, I hadn’t given much thought to it because he seems to flirt with anything that moves.”

Morgana laughed and ducked her eyes. He still hadn’t answered either of her questions really. She was too sharp not to have noticed that.

“I could do with a night out though, I need some fun which I’ll certainly get with Gwaine. What better way to see where our friendship,” he had deliberately used that word, “could go than with a date?”

Morgana let out a relieved sigh and pushed herself up using Merlin’s knees.

“We’ll have to find you something to wear!”

He was not a fan of the glee in her voice, or of the way she clapped her hands and flung open his modest wardrobe to begin rifling through his clothes.

***

They were only going to a local pub, somewhere they could lie low and hopefully not be recognised, so Merlin had won out against Morgana and was dressed simply (and warmly because it was February and still bloody cold in Cambridge) in his soft pale blue Cambridge hoodie (yes, identical to the one he’d given Arthur for Christmas. Except the fluff on the inside of Merlin’s had started to wear away after several washes), his nicest jeans because it was still a date and a long red scarf wrapped around his neck.

About ten minutes before Gwaine was due Merlin felt his phone vibrate with a text.

 

**The Prat**

**18:52**

_Still no date for tonight?_

 

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t been able to tell Arthur about his plans with Gwaine. Perhaps he was worried it might make things awkward between them or maybe he didn’t want Arthur to think he had moved on from whatever was going on between them. And he did know that the last thing he wanted to do was rub in Arthur’s face that he was able to spend Valentine’s Day with someone he might actually have feelings for (or could potentially develop feelings for), that he could spend the most romantic day of the year being out with his sexuality.

 

_No, just spending the night with some friends_

Which wasn’t a flat out lie per say. There was a knock on the door just as he was putting his phone away. Morgana, who had insisted she see them off and give them a curfew or some such motherly rubbish, rushed to open the door and welcome Gwaine into _Merlin’s_ room. He was glad to note Gwaine was dressed just as casually as he was in jeans and a long sleeved rugby shirt for a team he didn’t recognise (because not every Welsh stereotype was true).

Morgana forced them side by side and whipped out a camera from somewhere and began directing them as if it were a photo shoot. Or prom night. Merlin indulged her for a few moments (he was still too scared to refuse her anything) before it became downright embarrassing and he forced Gwaine out of the front door. At least she had done the same thing with Gwen and Lance when he picked her up for dinner and a show somewhere in town. He wasn’t getting any special treatment.

 

Outside he tucked his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. Gwaine seemed to notice as he threw an arm over Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him flush against his side to warm him up.

They ended up in a small, rather traditional pub, called _The Cave_ , when Gwaine ordered them both a pint (and refused to let Merlin pay). They settled into a booth near the back.

“Sorry it’s not more romantic, but I figured you wouldn’t want to draw any attention after all the articles that have been published about you. Besides, alcohol is the best way to get someone to share all their secrets.” He winked.

Merlin took a fortifying sip of his pint, finding he was suddenly nervous.

“So,” he placed it down on the table, “how have you been?”

Gwaine laughed, short and loud at the conversation starter but answered all the same.

“Good. I’ve been good. I’ve started looking into locations for the bar I was thinking of setting up. I was in Oxford this past week, staying with _his highness_ actually. I thought it could be cool to bring a proper London style bar to a big student town. Still not sure it’s the right town though.”  
“How is Arthur?” He tried to feign nonchalance but he wasn’t sure he was all that successful at it given the raised eyebrow he got from Gwaine.

“Funny you should ask actually, he’s been weird all week, different to how I’ve ever seen him before. He’s on his phone all the time, texting. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he had a serious crush on someone.”

Merlin picked up his pint again, hoping to conceal his blush. Surely if Gwaine was noticing those sorts of things it had to mean something.

“And he’s been complaining more about his duty and how much it sucks to be the Prince of Wales with the weight of expectation resting on his shoulders. But somehow he seems happier, lighter even. He’s stopped being so grumpy at everything that moves. Something has happened to him but I really can’t work out anything more than that. Oh, and then I told him I was going out with you tonight.”

Merlin coughed on the foam of his pint. _Shit. Shit shit shit._ Arthur _knew_ who he was out with tonight, _knew_ he had lied to him. _Shit_.

“Woah, mate.” Gwaine rushed around the table to whack him on the back, “you okay there?”

Merlin could only nod as he regained the ability to breathe.

“It wasn’t meant to be a secret, was it? I mean it was kind of Morgana’s idea so I assumed…” he trailed off.

“Not a secret,” Merlin’s throat still felt rough from all the choking he’d just been doing.

“He was weird about it though. He gave me this look like he was all disappointed, and then he rather angrily told me not to ‘be my usual dickish self with Merlin’ before storming out of the apartment, complete with drama queen door slamming. Maybe he’s destined to be a queen and not a king after all.” Gwaine seemed to find the idea hilarious and threw his head back in a full bodied laugh. Merlin just went cold all over; was Arthur angry at Gwaine, or at him? And the irony of Gwaine’s comment wasn’t lost on him considering the rather gay activity he and Arthur been involved in on New Year’s Day. He downed his pint, not knowing what else to do, before slamming it back down on the slightly sticky table and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth in what his mother had always assured him was the epitome of bad manners. Gwaine, though, actually looked impressed.

“Another?”

***

The evening had been fun, once they’d moved the conversation away from Arthur. Gwaine hadn’t moved back to his side of the table and had touched Merlin lightly throughout another two rounds of drinks.

Like the gentleman he was (no sarcasm) Gwaine walked Merlin back to the porter at St John’s. He wasn’t quite steady on his feet and kept listing towards Gwaine slightly, but his thought processes and speech seemed to just about be intact.

The Irish rogue pulled Merlin around so they were facing each other and tipped his head before leaning in for a kiss. Merlin sort of just _let it happen._ He kept his eyes open and turned them skyward hoping this wouldn’t last too long. Yes, it had been a fun evening, but there hadn’t been a spark. Gwaine eventually pulled back with a light smacking sound.

“Nothing for you either, eh?”

“Oh thank fuck,” Merlin dropped his head onto Gwaine’s shoulder and laughed. “I thought it was just me. You’re good looking Gwaine, you’re fucking gorgeous actually, and so so much fun but that’s about it for me.”

“You’re precious, you know that?” He’d wrapped his arms around Merlin so they were now in an awkward hug. “If I’d met you sooner this might have worked better. But I think there’s someone else. And for me to blow off the chance of sex, which I did at a bar last week with the leggy blonde, I think it could be something serious.”

“Oh, Gwaine,” he hugged him tighter. He’d only know the Duke a few months but his openness and friendly (if often flirty) demeanour meant Merlin had warmed to him quickly.

“I know I know,” he laughed, “I’m getting all sentimental. I wouldn’t have come out tonight if it had been anyone else but you are adorable and Morgana made it sound like you were moping around in your singledom and I felt bad.”

“I haven’t been moping, just had something on my mind recently.”

“Oh yeah,” Gwaine pulled back and held Merlin at arm’s length so he could look right into his eyes. “Something, or some _one_?”

Merlin hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Well that’s an admission if ever I saw one. It’s Arthur, isn’t it?”  
Merlin squeaked, he actually let out a mouse like squeak.

“I noticed the two of you disappear at New Year’s and that’s when he started to get all weird, I guess I was successful in my putting two and two together.”  
“It can’t happen though, and no-one can know. Especially not about… _him_.”

Gwaine nodded in understanding and pulled Merlin back into a tight hug. He placed a reassuring kiss in his hair.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not really anyone’s fault. Hey,” he pulled himself out of Gwaine’s embrace, “I should go and wallow in my own self pity, and you need to go and call the person you would rather have spent today with.”

Gwaine offered him a shy smile, which was a first and they bid each other goodnight. He could trust Gwaine.

 

Morgana was waiting up for him when he flopped face first onto his bed.

“What is my life,” he mumbled in his pillows, “when I turn down the freaking duke who has graced the cover of GQ magazine. Twice!”

 

The next morning he had some damage control to do with Arthur. Morgana was off helping Gwen get ready for the Spring Ball at Churchill college, so he was guaranteed some privacy for at least the next few hours. He took a scalding shower, grabbed a sandwich at the buttery and retreated back to his room.

He picked up his phone and, with a few swipes, was calling Arthur. The ringing sounded almost deafening in his ear as he waited. There was a slight clicking noise, indicating Arthur had picked up. Before he could even say hello, Merlin blurted out,

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Gwaine. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings in _any_ way. I’m sorry I lied. But nothing happened, if that counts for anything at all. He even kissed me goodnight and I just stood there feeling all uncomfortable, like I was kissing an uncle or something. I really didn’t mean to –“

“Merlin!” He finally registered Arthur was calling his name and trailed off.

“Yeah?” His voice was quiet, as if hoping it would calm Arthur.

“God you ramble! I’m not mad, I was. But Gwaine explained when he got back last night. If anything I’m mad at Morgana for making you all pawns in some elaborate chess game of hers. Yeah, I was jealous that Gwaine got to spend the day with you and I didn’t but that’s just the story of my life. The fact he was on the phone with Percival until three in the morning helped to quell my jealous rage too. I know we’ve been brushing the subject under the carpet, but I do wish I could have taken you out yesterday. I would have made you put on a really nice suit, which you would have tugged at all evening, and taken you to a little Italian bistro somewhere out of the main town. I would have pulled out your chair for you and taken your hand when I sat down.”

“Uh-huh,” he was closing his eyes and picturing it all, picturing how his Valentine’s Day could have gone, “keep talking.”


	7. 07 March

07 March

 

They all piled into a coach with all the other students heading down to London for the weekend. Morgause had offered to drive Morgana and, by extension, her friends but they’d decided this was another university thing they wanted to experience properly. They’d headed straight for the back seats like the cool kids they thought they were. Except they kind of _were_ , and since when did Merlin hang around with the cool kids? Oh, right, that would be around the same time he started hanging out with the royal family. What even was his life?

 

“So Morgana,” Gwen removed her head from the crook of Lance’s neck to address the princess, “who will you be rooting for tomorrow? There is a conflict of interest after all.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Please. Like I’d ever pick my brother over my boys in blue.”  
“They’re all boys in blue,” Merlin mumbled, more to himself but Morgana still shot him a glare.

“Go back to sleep Merlin.”  
He stuck his tongue out at her and stretched out over the two seats he was occupying before burrowing his head in her soft lap.

“If only the British press could see you now.”  
She swatted at his head.

“Actually Morgana, I wasn’t talking about Arthur,” Gwen steered them back to the original conversation, “I was thinking a certain Sir Leon might draw your allegiance over to the Oxford crew.” She winked dangerously.

“What? No, we’re just friends,” she spluttered rather unconvincingly. A delicate blush started to paint its way across her cheeks. It was rare to see her to flustered so there was clearly something to Gwen’s suggestion. Morgana wasn’t fooling anyone.

“We all saw you tucked into a quiet corner together at New Year’s. And I’m sure we’ll be seeing him again at the May Ball.”  
“And you’ve certainly been texting _someone_ a lot lately.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping _Mer-_ lin.”

It was eerie how much she could sound like her brother when she was annoyed, or just generally on the back foot in an argument.

As usual Lance just sat there, one arm wrapped snugly around Gwen’s shoulders, a calm smile on his face as he refused to get involved in their drama. He never had as much time as his friends to unwind and relax so he was determined to make the most of this weekend away from medical textbooks.

“Morgana, my dear,” Merlin cracked his eyes open to look up at her, “there’s no use trying to deny that you like him. You should be planning what moves you’re going to put on him. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. He’s dreamy, I won’t deny that, in an old school gentlemanly way. You don’t need to be a gay man to appreciate that. And we’re all _happy_ for you.”  
“This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing this. Heaven forbid someone overhears us and goes to the Daily Mail before I even get a chance to talk to Leon myself,” she hissed.

“Wait,” Merlin struggled to half sit up, “are you nervous about this? And more importantly, was that an admission of your feelings?”

He shot her a trademark grin and raised an eyebrow in a way very much reminiscent of Gaius. Morgana simply pulled the hood of his jumper over his face and forced him to lie back down.

“It’s a shame we haven’t got any friends in the Cambridge boat,” she segwayed smoothly as the coach began to move.

***

They had all stayed up at Cambridge for the first few weeks of the Easter holiday to blitz through their holiday assignments, leaving the rest free for fun and family time.

It was the Friday before the boat race and Morgana had offered to put them all up for the weekend. In her palace. It was sometimes all too easy for Merlin to forget that one of his best friends was a member of the British royalty. But pulling up to the grand façade of St James’ Palace, Morgana’s official residence, in her Rolls Royce with a chauffeur, it was hard to ignore the glaringly obvious fact that Morgana was every inch the royal princess. There were even a few members of the Great British press waiting for them at the gate. Merlin automatically put his hands up to shield his face from the flash bulbs. Morgana just fluffed her hair as Gwen rolled her eyes and Lance hid his smile.

“Stop hiding,” Morgana slapped his hands away, “if you hide the press will just get suspicious.”  
“Better than having my face splashed all over the place,” he muttered.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Merlin. Trust me,” her voice softened, “I’ve learned the hard way that the press don’t like it when you keep secrets so you have to make sure to give them as much as you can so you can protect your deepest held secrets,” she gave Merlin a knowing look and he assumed she was referring to Arthur’s secret. Although he wasn’t entirely sure that Morgana knew about his sexuality. “Besides, Uther tells us what our mother used to say, that the press is a part of royal life. The public essentially pay for us so we owe it to them to share what we can of our lives with them.”  
Merlin looked at her, he’d never really given much thought to royal life beyond the parties, tiaras and palaces, but there was clearly more to it, a dark side if you will.

“And that seems fair to you?”

“Not always, no. But there are lots of unfair things in this world. I know I didn’t choose this life like a lot of celebrities, but it’s been like this all my life so I don’t think about it too much. Really!”

The atmosphere in the car had become tense and the three of them were giving Morgana varying degrees of worried and pitying looks.

“Really! It’s fine. I’m used to it. Besides, Arthur wouldn’t get into nearly as much trouble without the press, so I’ve got to give them credit for that. I’ve learned how to handle them over the years. I promise you, it’s fine!”

Merlin still looked unconvinced but he let it go as they passed under the arch of the gatehouse that had survived since the days of Henry VIII. He was literally passing under a piece of history.

 

Once inside Morgana led them swiftly through the ornate galleries and lavishly decorated rooms and passages. Gwen had seen it all before and Lance was too suave to show his awe, but Merlin was struggling to keep his mouth closed as his head swivelled from side to side trying to take everything in. But rather than a red velvet hallway they came to a rather modest corridor devoid of portraits and great works of art. Morgana pulled out an ordinary looking key (Merlin was, honestly, a bit disappointed that it wasn’t big and gold) to open a discrete door into what looked like a normal flat, albeit a very large one. Elements of the palace were still evident through the stately portraits lining the walls and the four poster bed Merlin could see in the next room. But it was all rather un-royal which, Merlin supposed, was the whole point.

“Don’t look so surprised Merlin, actual palace rooms aren’t that comfortable to live in. You’ve been to Balmoral, it’s foreboding and it never feels like a home.”

It was true that this space felt more welcoming, if not quite as awe inspiring, with its soft leather sofa, breakfast bar in the kitchen, gentle colour palette and family photos mixed in with the portraits. Merlin spotted Gwen in quite a few.

He looked closer, there was a display of framed photos on one wall which reminded him of the row of school photos on the mantelpiece at home in Ealdor. It was like looking into the private world of one of the most famous families in the world as they grew up. There were shots of Arthur as a small child in various school pantomime costumes (never the lead he noticed), a teenage Morgana in an elegant white dress with an ugly scowl on her face, Arthur in slightly too big tails on what Merlin assumed was his first day at Eton, a few of him red faced rowing in Eton, college and then Oxford colours, Gwen and Morgana laughing together in oversized hats, baby photos and even, Merlin was surprised to note, one of him in a suit a college barbeque with a glass of wine in one hand and his other arm around Gwen. There was even a photo of him and Gwaine right before their Valentine’s date, taken in Merlin’s room.

Morgana caught him looking,

“My mother started the wall. This was her private retreat when Buckingham and Clarence got a bit too much. I think the wall reminded her that, under all the pomp and circumstance, we’re still just a family. And I think you fit in rather well,” she nodded towards the final photo and Merlin felt a lump form in his throat. “It’s hard to have proper close friends, but I’m so glad we’ve both got you.”

 _Both._ Did that mean Arthur considered him a friend? He wondered if the two siblings ever talked about him.

She nodded towards a camera charging in the corner of the room,

“And I’m ready to add to the wall tomorrow.”

***

Merlin sunk into his royal bed. The marshmallow like covers swallowed him up. He squashed some of the air down so as to be able to actually see out of the bed, and he reached for his phone. He opened up a new text to Arthur, the light of his mobile seeming over bright in the darkened room. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but he couldn’t quite find the right words. ‘Good Luck’ would seem appropriate, but it didn’t seem like _enough._ He typed out and then deleted five texts before simply typing,

 

_Will be looking out for u tomorrow_

 

He stared at the screen. Then, right at the bottom, those three dots appeared indicating that Arthur was typing a reply.

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**23:18**

_Go to sleep Merlin_

 

He felt his stomach tighten painfully. Apparently a brush off didn’t hurt any less when it was by text. But the three dots were still there. He actually closed his eyes as a physical barrier against whatever Arthur was typing. The phone vibrated in his hands, but he only dared crack one eye open.

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**23:19**

_Otherwise we’ll be texting all night. I realise this may have escaped your notice, but I need my sleep ahead of tomorrow_

 

Merlin audibly sighed in relief; they were back to insulting each other in the way only friends could. For the first time he was actually looking forward to the boat race and seeing the prince. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he would be seeing him in a skin tight all in one as his muscles flexed with the effort of moving the boat through the water. Yeah, it was going to be a good day. Even more so considering Percy and Leon were in the mix too and Gwaine would be there to provide witty and sarcastic commentary. Merlin just hoped his presence wouldn’t make things too awkward with Arthur.

His fingers flew over the touch screen as he typed out a final text,

 

_I heard a race or something mentioned. U in it?_

 

Arthur responded instantly.

**His Royal Pratness**

**23:22**

_Idiot. Ax_

It was clear though, from his sign off, that he meant it affectionately.

Merlin would be able to sleep easy, probably with dreams of a certain prince coming out of the river dripping wet. But he’d deny it.

***

By the time Arthur’s race was announced on the telly Merlin was already on his second glass of Pimms and he’d discarded his Cambridge scarf… _somewhere_. They were all in a boat house with fellow Cambridge students, hired especially for the occasion, who were mostly crowded around a tv showing the BBC coverage. The crews were being introduced, Cambridge first. A cheer went up for each new crew member. Although Merlin didn’t know any of them personally he did recognise a few from around town which made him feel more a part of it all.

He looked around. Gwen and Lance were together by the barbeque grill outside, Morgana was on the balcony with a pair of binoculars wearing a summer dress made especially in Cambridge blue and Gwaine had arrived and was now pacing in a corner, pulling faces at whoever he was on the phone with. He too had a set of binoculars slung around his neck.

Merlin turned back to the tv where Arthur and the Oxford crew was being introduced. Arthur’s full name – and title – were read off along with his age, degree, height and weight – which seemed kind of personal to Merlin, but he was sure the young prince was just glad to be treated like the rest of his crew. There was actually surprisingly little mention of his royalness.

“He won’t like that. They’ve used all his titles,” Gwaine garbled around a mouthful of food as he sidled up to Merlin.

“It’s probably the law or something.”  
He was distracted by the tv image of Arthur in his Oxford all in one, arms folded across his chest to further show off his biceps. The lycra left little to the imagination, showing off his tanned legs covered in blonde hairs (thank fuck for HD tv) and the noticeable bulge at his crotch. His head, with a confident smile, sat atop a broad set of rower’s shoulders. As a gay man, hell as a human being with eyes, Merlin felt his heart rate pick up in arousal and he was completely unaware of anything being said by the commentator. He could always watch it back later; his mum was taping it. All too soon the screen moved on to another rower who, although equally as toned, had nothing on Arthur as far as Merlin was concerned. He was brought back to earth by Gwaine’s hearty chuckle.

“Mate!” He clapped him on the back, “you’ve got it bad! Don’t even try and deny it with that blush.”  
“Yeah, well, me and half the country.”  
Gwaine cocked his head and raised a thoughtful eyebrow but said nothing.

“Anyway,” Merlin coughed delicately to indicate he was done with that particular conversation, “who were you on the phone with? Seemed pretty insense.”  
This time it was Gwaine who blushed, which was a sight to behold!

“Just Perce. We’ve been talking quite a bit lately so I just wanted to reassure him that they’ll crush Cambridge’s arses – no offense.”  
“Not much taken.”

What was it with everyone blushing this weekend?

“You should wish Arthur good luck too.” He winked before disappearing into the crowd of students.

Merlin felt for his phone in his pocket. Should he? Would Arthur want to hear from him? Or he would be busy preparing for the race? Unlike Percy, apparently. Maybe just a text, so he could ignore it for now if he wanted. Yeah, Merlin nodded to himself as he took out his phone.

 

_Good luck for today. U’ll need it against the might of Cambridge_

 

To his surprise there was a quick reply.

 

**His Royal Pratness**

**16:12**

_Piss off! Axx_

 

 

Two Xs. Kisses always confused the fuck out of Merlin who maintained that you should never say something over text that you wouldn’t in person. So did that mean Arthur wanted to kiss him? Twice. Or did he just follow a different set of texting rules? Maybe it was just habit. But two rather than just the one – that was new. Merlin felt like such a girl fretting about the meaning of one little letter, but he couldn’t deny that at least part of him wanted it to mean _something_. That was certainly new; it was something he hadn’t let himself even think about since New Year’s. He couldn’t let himself get deluded into thinking about something that could never be. Because, even in the unlikely event Arthur felt something for Merlin, he already had a fiancé and Merlin would only ever be a commoner anyway. But when they texted and bantered (which was Merlin’s preferred form of flirting) it was all too easy to forget all of that, to forget Arthur was the Prince of Wales and to instead imagine waking up in his arms.

 

Crowds of people were migrating back to the tv indicating the imminent start of the race. Merlin followed them and jostled with his elbows to get a good view.

***

Arthur peeled off his tracksuit and handed it off to a flustered looking attendant of the boat house. He looked at Merlin’s text again and smiled at it before passing his phone off too. For the next half an hour or so he could focus on nothing but the race. He wanted to live up to the traditional expectations of a future king: physically fit and a champion in battle. It was an outlook he hand in all his sports. As he walked down to the river’s edge he looked over at the equally determined faces of Leon and Percy. Leon had been in the Blues boat the previous year and was back with the vengeance of a defeat, Percy generally didn’t feel as passionately about a victory as the others, he just enjoyed the sport but for Arthur this would be his only chance. His father was waiting in the tent at the finish and his disappointed look if Arthur lost would crush him more than the feeling of letting down his friends and university.

 

He turned to acknowledge the crown, many of whom were there to see him, before shaking out his muscles and climbing into his seat in the boat.

***

Merlin chewed on his thumb, a nervous habit, as he watched the two crews manoeuvre to the start line. As much as his allegiance was with Cambridge and he would declare so with passion, he knew how much it would mean to Arthur to win. You only had to meet the king once to realise the high expectations he had for his son, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to live up to those expectations. It wasn’t an altogether healthy relationship. He imagined Morgana, who was all too familiar with Uther’s domineering nature, felt equally as torn between the two boats. Especially since, even if she wouldn’t quite admit it, she was rapidly developing feelings for Leon. Merlin had come to know that she kept her heart closely guarded, a fact supported by Gwen, which only made her feelings all the more monumental and Merlin was, mostly, willing to let her go at her own pace. Besides, with his confused feelings for Arthur he wasn’t really in much of a position to pass judgement.

 

The pop of the starter gun drew his attention back to the screen. Merlin understood very little of rowing, so he relied on just keeping track of which boat was ahead. As far as he could tell both crews had got a good start. The Oxford crew were on the north side of the river which, according to the commentary, should give them an early advantage coming into the first bends.

Merlin and co were watching from a point near Barnes railway bridge near the final point just before Chiswick bridge so it would be a while before the crowd around him drifted outside to get a look at the boats live. Already the cheers around him were growing in volume as their cheered on the crew in light blue. They were completely drowning out the commentary.

Gwaine managed to find him in the bustle of people though and crowded into his ear to whisper his own brand of commentary.

“Both crews are still level pegging it, which isn’t a good thing for Oxford who should have taken an early lead with their advantage on the Middlesex side. Both crews are approaching the black buoy, our first landmark in this historic course. At this point I’m sure his royal arse face will be pretty pissed off not to be in the lead but there’s little he can do about it because he’s not setting the pace for his boat. I’m sure if the camera were to change to a close up we would be able to see him barely containing frustrated muttering. And he’ll be red in the face with all the effort – better now tire himself out though. Unlike Perce. Glorious Percy looks determined yet calm, but then he doesn’t have the pressure of an entire nation on his shoulders. Because, let’s be honest, the whole country wants Arthur to win. As does Daddy dearest who is, of course, his toughest critic.”

Between Gwaine’s commentary and the television pictures, Merlin was completely enraptured by the race. He didn’t think he could find rowing so interesting, and Gwaine certainly seemed to know his stuff, but maybe that was just par for the course as an old Etonian.

“You can see Arthur and his boat of brave knights are really digging in. Could they be giving too much too soon? They are pulling ahead, just half a length at the moment, but it looks to be increasing slowly.”  
It was true, they did seem to finally be breaking away from the Cambridge crew (Merlin wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that) but the changing camera angles made it hard for Merlin to be sure exactly how much distance there was between the two boats.

“Both boats are passing Fulham Football Club now, Oxford still ahead. You can see their cox, tiny bugger, pulling them to the Surrey side of the river where the water is deeper and faster. Although they have to be wary of the Cambridge crew, because as much as this is a fight to the death all these young men were raised right and heaven forbid they should get in each other’s way, that really would be a poor show. Merlin, I’m getting bored. Why is the race so long? And why do they keep showing close ups of Arthur’s face?” He was starting to sound a bit whingy, “I see it all the time on telly and in magazines and even in person every so often. But I don’t get to see Perce as much so I would really appreciate it if the BBC could show his face a bit more. Maybe so I could play this back on iPlayer later and get a few screen grabs. Do you think his rowing face is similar to his orgasm face? Do you think Arthur’s is?”  
Merlin blushed, because now he was thinking about Arthur orgasming and it really wasn’t a safe train of thought.

“Maybe you should ask Elena, she is his fiancé after all.”  
“Please, you think those two have had sex. The only kisses they’ve shared have been for the media.”  
Well that was something Merlin hadn’t been aware of. As much as he may have _fooled around_ with Arthur he never once doubted that he loved his fiancé. He thought the time for royal arranged marriages had been and gone; even Uther had married for love. Would he not let Arthur do the same?

Apparently Gwaine caught on to his confused look,

“It’s a marriage of _convenience_ shall we say. They really are great friends and would do anything for each other, but it can’t have escaped your notice that there’s very little chemistry between them.”

Merlin had noticed, but he assumed they were just a private couple. Or that Arthur was too busy with his tongue down Merlin’s throat.

“She’s not even here for Arthur’s big race, she’s in Denmark with her family. If she were anything more than a friend she would be here. And she’s obviously not his type.” Gwaine winked in Merlin’s direction at that, who just frowned now even more confused. “And here _you_ are at his race to cheer him on.”  
“To cheer on _Cambridge_ ,” he interjected but Gwaine just rolled his eyes.

“Fine, to _see_ Arthur. And he’s asked me to make sure _you’re_ there after he crosses the line.”

Gwaine turned back to the screen to give Merlin a few moments to process all of that.

 

Merlin was well and truly confused. It was true that he’d never really seen Arthur and Elena act like a couple, more like a bickering pair of siblings that loved each other very much but had no desire what so ever to sleep with each other. He was surprised though that Arthur would let himself become engaged to someone he didn’t at least fancy. Sure, he couldn’t marry a Catholic, but he was pretty sure royals in this day and age got to pick their wives, or at the very least got some input. But, according to Gwaine, she ‘wasn’t his type’ and the accompanying wink lead Merlin to believe that was a hint at his sexuality. And maybe he wasn’t quite as bisexual as Merlin had come to believe. But it was dangerous thoughts like that which lead him to read more and more into his friendship with Arthur.

 

Gwaine seemed to take pity on him and resumed the commentary. Or he was just bored and needed to entertain himself, Merlin could never quite be sure with Gwaine.

“The crews are coming up to Hammersmith Bridge now, approaching the two mile point, with Oxford still in the lead. But it’s still by less than a boat’s length so Cambridge could still take it. This will be their best chance, the next five minutes or so are crucial to their race plan. They have the advantage now with the deeper water, but as you can see Oxford are taking a tight line and keeping close to them as they aim for the second lamppost on the bridge where the fastest water is. The team ahead here usually goes on to win, but anything can still happen and it’s still incredibly close.

St Paul’s School now and 1.8 miles rowed so far. You know I went to school there, before I was shipped off to Eton and met the bundle of joy that is one Arthur Pendragon. From one bunch of toffs to another. But through Arthur I met Percy.”  
It seemed there was more going on between them than Merlin had first thought. Gwaine at least seemed to feel more than he had lead friends to believe, similarly to Morgana and Leon.

“St Pauls have a pretty slick rowing kit though, all black and white which is pretty classy if you ask me, not that anyone does. Why both these crews row in blue is beyond me, and they’re both the blues boats. Pretty stupid really.

And here’s Chiswick Eyot. Ooh, we should all go out some day and have a picnic there. It’s uninhabited so we could be all alone and just be our fantastic goofy selves. Or pratish selves in Arthur’s case. Gotta watch the tide though. Coming up to the brewery now which does a great – oh my god. Is that -?”

Merlin could see it too, on the tv. Across the front of a brewery someone had draped a huge banner reading “HRH: His Royal Handsomeness” followed by a marriage proposal. Merlin sputtered out a laugh.

“Do you think he’s seen it?”

“Doubt it, you can’t see much of the brewery from the water and I doubt he’s taken his eyes of the guy in front’s shoulders for the entire race. His maj won’t be happy about it. And Arthur really didn’t want this to turn into a royal thing, it hardly helps with the image of this boat race being elitist. Can’t deny it’s bloody funny though!

Ooh. They’re getting pretty close to Barnes bridge now, we should probably head onto the balcony and we should be able to see them with our binoculars.”  
“I don’t have any-”

He was cut off by Gwaine thrusting a small pain into his hands, not the more professional pair he had around his neck. He grabbed Merlin’s hand to drag him outside and Merlin was pleased to note he felt absolutely nothing at the gesture: no sweaty palms or increased heart rate as he’d feared their might be since their valentines and Spring Ball together.

 

Through the binoculars Merlin could clearly make out Arthur’s face in the boat. It was bright red from the exertion and his breathing was heavy, if steady. He watched as Arthur put everything he had into each stroke; sliding forward in the boat before pushing with his legs and pulling with his arms in time with the rest of the crew. The repeated motion seemed almost an art form, Merlin glanced over at the Cambridge crew and found their movements to be just as graceful and their breathing even harder as they continued to push back against the Oxford crew. They were closing the gap. Arthur’s gaze flicked briefly over his shoulder as he pulled on his oar to judge the distance. Merlin suddenly found he was desperate for Cambridge not to pull ahead. He didn’t want them to loose in a humiliating fashion, and it didn’t look like they would, but he did want to see Arthur celebrate and to be able to celebrate with him (even if he would be the butt of many a Cambridge/loser joke). He’d seen Arthur in a foul mood before and it wasn’t exactly fun.

The boats were now almost directly in front of the boat house and Merlin put down his binoculars in favour of cupping his hands around him mouth and yelling,

“Come on Arthur!”  
His fellow students gave him some weird looks. Or they might have been looking at Gwaine who was now jumping up and down and yelling Percy’s name.

He was sure their friends couldn’t hear them over the general roar of the crowd, which seemed to only grow in volume as the two crews passed them.

 

They slowly migrated back inside to watch at Oxford crossed the line a half a length ahead of the light blue Cambridge crew. While they sat dejectedly in their boat the camera panned to the jubilant Oxford crew. Arthur though, just looked relieved.

***

Merlin didn’t get to actually see Arthur until that evening. It had become traditional for the winning crew to fill out a London night club to celebrate their victory, but the logistics of that were all a bit more difficult when the prince of Wales is involved. So instead _he_ was hosting the victory party in his own, _incredibly_ spacious, living quarters at Clarence House. And he had very graciously allowed his Cambridge friends (and family in Morgana’s case, but Merlin didn’t think they were friends exactly) to join in. Merlin had his Cambridge scarf draped proudly around his neck which had led to a few mocking comments thrown his way but, 3 glasses of champagne in (because this was a classy celebration dammit) he didn’t really care all that much.

He was yet to actually see Arthur though. Although they’d started texting again since Valentine’s day they hadn’t seen each other face to face since. And there was always the risk that, despite how easy and cordial they were over text, it could suddenly be awkward when back in the same room. Merlin still hadn’t told anyone what had happened at New Year’s. His best friend was out of the question because Will didn’t really _do_ feelings and all his other friends were friends of Arthur who had no idea about his sexuality and the prince wanted to keep it that way. As much as he was desperate to talk to someone about all the thoughts and feelings running through his mind, he would never be responsible for outing someone.

 

The apartments they were using had a small space out the back that had been designated for smokers and Merlin had ducked out for some fresh air and to clear his head.

“Hey,” Arthur’s voice called out softy.

Merlin took a steadying breath before turning to look at him.

“Hey yourself. And congratulations.”

Alone under the spring night sky there was a sense of reverence that compelled both men to keep their voices soft and low. 

“Thanks.”  
“What did your father say?”  
“I think he was pleased. He rowed himself in his youth so he had a few pointers for me to work on, but he did slap me on the back and congratulate me.”  
“Good. Good.”

 

There was a not entirely comfortable silence. Both of them were thinking the same thing but neither was sure how to start the conversation. Arthur took a step forward, into the pool of light cast by a halogen outdoor lamp. His golden hair shone in the artificial light which cast mysterious shadows over his face, masking his eyes.

“I’ve missed you.” In the end it was Arthur who broke the silence, a slight husky quality to his voice.

“We still text all the time.”  
“I know, but I’ve missed your face. Besides, there’s a lot you can’t say over text. I don’t think it’s quite the right medium to talk about feelings.”  
“I’m not sure I know how to verbalise my feelings anyway. Not yet.” He ducked his head to avoid Arthur’s intense gaze. He took the younger man’s chin in his hands and reconnected their eyes. He swept the soft pad of his thumb over sharp cheek bones.

“I wanted to see you on Valentine’s day,” his voice was barely above a whisper now.

“I think I knew that.” He smiled sadly.  
“And I really was so angry at Gwaine for asking you, but I couldn’t say anything. I wish things were different; I wish I wasn’t a sodding prince with all these expectations sitting heavily on my shoulders. If I were just another student I wouldn’t be engaged to a woman I don’t want to marry, I wouldn’t have to even entertain the idea of a girlfriend. If I could do things my way I’d have already taken you out for a romantic meal, which you probably would have hated, and our first kiss wouldn’t have been as cliché as midnight on New Year’s. And there would have been more kisses by now. I wouldn’t have to hide my sexuality and, if I could really have everything my own way, my father would be proud of me and wouldn’t care in the least about my preference for men.”

Their faces were closer, Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath dancing on his lips as he spoke with such longing. He could so easily close his eyes and lean in the final few millimetres to capture Arthur’s lips again, like he’d been dreaming of since January. But, given their complicated situation, he had to let Arthur initiate anything that was to happen.

“Until you I’ve been able to resign myself to my future. I haven’t liked it per say, but Elena is a brilliant friend and the only other person who knows I’m gay.” He took a deep breath at that, he wasn’t used to saying it out loud and it felt strangely liberating. “It has always been our plan to have the heir that’s expected and then we’d each be free to be discrete with whomsoever we chose. But then you threw a spanner in the works. Merlin,” he breathed his name like it was a prayer, “no-one has ever stood up to me or challenged me the way you do. Even my friends can’t forget that I’m the prince and will one day be their king and so are always slightly guarded around me. I’m not even sure they all realise it. But you treat me like I’m anonymous. And Merlin I love it. I never realised how much I wanted to be normal until you treated me like I was. You don’t put up with any of my bullshit. And you’re beautiful.”

An embarrassed flush spread over his cheeks which only made Arthur’s gentle smile broader.

“It’s true,” he laughed. “You’re elfin and ethereal and I could honestly look at you all day. You look so delicate with your porcelain skin, deep pools of clear water for eyes, your slightly slanted lips and the long column of your neck. But then you open your mouth and you’re fierce and full of fire. It’s the best oxymoron.

No-one has ever made me feel like this before and I really don’t know what to do about it. I tried these past few weeks to friend zone you. A part of me hoped you and Gwaine would hit it off so at least you wouldn’t be available. But I was so glad to find you still single today.”

 

Merlin had never heard Arthur speak so openly. He’d been right; this wasn’t a conversation they could have had with their iphones. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what Arthur wanted him to say.

 

“I wish you were single.”

 

It was always good to be honest. Arthur smiled sadly. Then his gaze dropped from Merlin’s eyes to his soft lips. He muttered ‘fuck it’ under his breath before _finally_ closing the gap and covering Merlin’s mouth with his own.


	8. 08 April

_08 April_

_ _

Merlin could hear the thumping of the music before he even turned the corner. The club, _Excalibur_ , was hidden down an alleyway under railway arches. It wasn’t somewhere he would have expected Arthur to have his twenty first. But then again, he hadn’t expected him to refuse a ball thrown in his honour as was Pendragon birthday tradition. Since he’d be taking up his official duties as Prince of Wales (which included a stint in the military) before the year was out he’d begged the king for a night with his friends at one of his favourite London nightclubs. His father had, apparently, given in surprisingly easily. He supposed it was one last night of freedom or something like that.

 

The music only got louder as he entered the exclusive club and descended the industrial metal steps to the basement where he could hear voices mixing with the heavy dance beats. Somehow, Arthur found him almost the moment he entered the club itself. He immediately flung himself at Merlin. Merlin was late, having had afternoon lectures, but not by too much he didn’t think. Yet already Arthur’s polo shirt was drenched in sweat down his back and under his arm pits, _charming_ , and his usually golden blonde hair was darker and plastered to his head with sweat. He had a bright blue drink clutched in his hands and it certainly didn’t seem to be his first drink by the smell of his breath. Merlin was also sure Arthur wouldn’t have flung himself quite so dramatically if he was sober. He supposed the young prince didn’t get many chances to really go wild and let his hair down in a safe space that was guaranteed to be free of any pesky reporters. Everyone at the club tonight would be friends of Arthur’s, people he had known for years and knew he could trust. Merlin could recognise a few members of Arthur and Morgana’s security teams too, just to make sure nothing got _too_ out of hand, but even they appeared to be off duty in jeans and shirts rather than their usual black get up.

Merlin threw his arms back around Arthur and yelled into his ear to be heard over the music,

“Happy Birthday!”

He was quickly pulled over to the bar when Arthur ordered him a drink with a series of hand gestures at the barman. His was bright pink and he sipped at it nervously, but it was fruity and delicious and seemed to dance on his tongue and down his throat. He finished it before they had even left the bar. Arthur laughed and ordered him another. This one actually made it to the table Arthur and his closest friends were occupying. Merlin was somewhat surprised to find Gwaine wiggling in Percy’s lap, not entirely sure when _that_ had happened. Gwen and Lance were there too, Gwen giggling having clearly already had her fair share of drinks too, as was Elena who was looking slightly longingly in Gwaine and Percy’s direction. A quick scout of the room and he found Morgana, who had clearly taken a leaf of out Gwaine’s book, and was jumping up and down on the dance floor with a slightly bewildered looking Leon.

Merlin barely had a chance to put his drink down and nod ‘hello’ to everyone, before Arthur was dragging him onto the dance floor to join them. The beat was heavy and dirty. Merlin was thrilled to find Arthur’s dance moves matched. He pulled Merlin’s back flush against his chest and, with very little warning, began to grind his crotch up against Merlin’s arse. Already feeling the effects of what must have been a particularly strong pink cocktail, Merlin gave back as good as he got. He’d never seen Arthur like this and he was loving it. Surrounded by friends and following Arthur’s lead he felt safe. And it was exactly the kind of physical release he had been aching for recently. It was too hard not being able to see Arthur all the time, but he was so busy with his final year and making decisions about his future after graduation. Clearly all Arthur wanted to do was unwind too.

Letting his body, rather than his brain, lead the way Merlin reached up behind him to wrap his arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him even closer. He responded by tucking his fingers through the belt loops of Merlin’s jeans and guiding his hips. He brought his lips down to the juncture between Merlin’s long neck and his shoulder, biting down before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. He felt his knees go weak as the incredibly happy prince continued to nibble up his neck. He came to his ear and dipped his tongue into the shell of it. By all accounts Merlin should have found it gross, too much like the wet willies Will used to give him as a kid, but it actually only turned him on even more. He knew ears were an erogenous zone, but had never before realised how much of a _thing_ it was for him. He groaned and felt the answering moan from Arthur vibrate against his back.

“I want to fuck you.” Arthur’s voice was low and gravelly making Merlin want to swoon. He could _feel_ how much truth there was to Arthur’s words and could only push his hips back harder.

“People have been giving me presents all day but all I want is to fuck you. I’d do it in front of all these people too, I don’t care, if I could be sure it wouldn’t get back to the fucking king.”

Merlin was starting to ache with want and the blonde’s words weren’t helping the _situation_ in his trousers. He spun around in his arms so they were chest to chest. He wanted to see the mussed hair and blown pupils of the prince who was usually so composed, even when they had kissed in the past. This was a whole new side to him and it was driving Merlin wild. There wasn’t much they could do about it though. They may have been lost, almost, in the crowd of people dancing, but Merlin wasn’t naïve enough to think they’d be able to get off without someone noticing and he knew that whatever the prince may want now, he’d regret it in the cold, sober light of day. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as the birthday boy and so had to be the sensible one. He pulled Arthur down by his hair for a dirty kiss, all tongue and teeth clacking together before pulling himself free and walking back to their table. Over his shoulder he threw him what he hoped was a sultry look.

“Soon,” he mouthed. He was sure he could see Arthur’s pupils dilate even further. He watched as the Prince disappeared to the bathroom, Merlin had to smirk as he attempted to hide his hard on from view. He had done that. He, Merlin Emrys from a small village in Wales, had reduced the crown prince to a sex starved teenage boy skulking off to sort himself out in the bathroom of a night club.

 

Gwen and Lance were on the dance floor, swaying together despite the beat of the music, and Gwaine and Percy were now horizontal on the vinyl benches and were very much attached at the mouth. Elena, however, was looking right at him and ignoring the very public display of affection going on to her left. He cowered under her look, suddenly feeling guilty. Whatever she and Arthur did or didn’t feel for each other they were still engaged and she would have every right to disapprove of what he’d just been doing in the dance floor with her _fiancé_. He sat down next to her nervously and took a dainty sip of his pink concoction. She had a pint of cider in front of her which was mostly drained, but she was still the most sober person there. Except for Lance maybe.

“You’re good for him.” He was surprised to hear hey say. “I’m not sure how much you know about our situation, but I love him enough in a brotherly sort of way to do whatever I can to help him out when it comes to his ‘duties’.” She made the bunny ears in the sky, as if she were using Arthur’s word rather than one of her own. “But that also means I love him enough to want him to be happy. I don’t know what it is about you Merlin, but you’ve made him happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. His birthday is usually spent wallowing about the anniversary of his mother’s death. But not this year. This year he’s actually in the mood to celebrate and I cannot tell you how relieved I am, how relieved we _all_ are, to see him like this. You’re the only thing in his life that’s changed. So,” she took his hands in her own and squeezed them in a friendly gesture, “you have my blessing. In fact you’ve got more than that, you have my encouragement. Make him happy, please.”


	9. 09 May

09 May

Merlin’s birthday fell in the middle of end of year exams, but his mum still insisted he come home for the weekend to celebrate with their now annual barbeque. Secretly, he thought she just wanted to meet more of his royal friends. He couldn’t think of any other reason she would be putting the passing of his exams at risk. But the joke was on her, so to speak, because his barbeque fell on the same day as one of King Uther’s annual garden parties at which members of the royal family were expected to help with the entertaining duties. Morgana had promised to try and get away to spend the day celebrating with her friend (which she’d much prefer) but she couldn’t guarantee anything.

Will was already over, warming the coals on the barbeque for later. Gwen was on her way with Lance and Gwaine had sent a text a few hours ago to say he was dragging his arse out of bed to get ready. Unbeknownst to him, Merlin had also extended an invitation to Percy. He knew so many of Merlin’s friends that he felt it was only appropriate to include him in the group, and he hadn’t missed how much Gwaine talked about him. He may like to pretend he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, but eventually everyone meets that one person who changes that perspective.

 

By half past one almost everyone had arrived and there was a relaxed atmosphere in the Emrys’ back yard. Will was grilling up a storm, Hunith was gazing across the garden to where Gwaine was hanging on to Percy’s every word, Lance was fiddling with the ipod dock selecting tracks and Gwen was flitting around with her camera to make sure every moment was captured on film. Merlin had never been part of a large group of friends at school; it had just been him and Will and sometimes Will’s on and off girlfriend Freya. Looking around now with a beer in a hand he realised how blessed he felt to have found a place in this amazing group of people. There was a stack of birthday presents on a table his mum had set up which went some way towards showing just how much they appreciated him. He smiled to himself, realising how really and truly happy he felt with the sun shining down on him, surrounded by friends and family. All his worries and exams were forgotten. He was broken from his thoughts by Gaius pushing a plate of food into his hands.

“You still with us my boy?”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t shake the grin, “just thinking how lucky I am to have met such amazing people. I was so worried that everyone at Cambridge would be too snobby and entitled to want to be seen dead with me, let alone be my friends. And then I went and became fantastic friends with some of the most entitled people on the planet,” he laughed.

“And they seem to really love you. I think some of them may actually love you as more than just a friend, Merlin.”  
He ducked his head, pretending he had no idea what his godfather was talking about. He’d always been a perceptive old man, but Merlin thought he had been so careful about hiding his thoughts and feelings when it came to a certain blonde prince. His heart had skipped a beat at the mention of the word love, he couldn’t deny it. But it was bittersweet to know that even if Arthur did love him, they could never have a fairy tale romance. Or even a normal romance. But when it came to Arthur Merlin was determined to take what he could get.

“You’re not quite as subtle as you might think. At the bottom of your last essay you’d doodled HRH Merlin Pendragon and I know for certain that Morgana’s not quite your type.” He winked and Merlin felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Just be careful with you heart,” he placed a fatherly hand on Merlin’s shoulder before turning away to insist Hunith give Gwaine and Percy some privacy.

 

He sat down in one of the brightly stripped deck chairs his mother had set out for guests and tucked into his burger. Will had finished it off just the way he liked him with a hint of mustard and a generous helping of ketchup. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes against the sun. Yes, he was would be perfectly happy if this day never had to end.

A dark shadow passed over his face and he heard someone pull a chair up next to him and settle into it. He turned towards the noise and smiled without opening his eyes.

“Hey.”

Merlin’s eyes flew open. Looking back at him was the perfectly lovely Arthur Pendragon dressed in cream chinos, a ralph lauren shirt and a blazer, sitting atop his head was the same pair of sunglasses he’d been wearing when he flew Merlin to Sandringham over Christmas.

“Hey.” Merlin managed to find his voice.

 

After things got hot and heavy at Arthur’s twenty first the two of them hadn’t been able to find a minute to spend together; any free time either of them had had been spent rushing to edit their dissertation or revising for first year exams. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t both thought about that night, and had been sharing _exactly_ what they’d been thinking with periodic texts to each other. Merlin had been terrified that his mum would come across his phone and be scandalised by what she found on there.

 

“Shouldn’t you be at Buckingham Palace for the garden party? Isn’t it one of your official duties, especially now you’re coming to the end of university?”

Arthur couldn’t resist taking Merlin’s hand in his own and absentmindedly stroking the back of his knuckles with his thumb. Amazingly, no one had noticed his arrival yet which he wanted to make the most of by touching Merlin in all the little ways he wished he could all the time.

“I convinced Morgana to take on my hosting duties in my place, which took less convincing that I thought once I’d mentioned that Leon would be there. Father was so happy that Morgana is finally doing something to help him out that he didn’t seem to care too much when I told him I had a prior engagement. It does mean Morgana won’t be spending your birthday with you, which I’m so sorry about. She’s sent her present with me though.”

Merlin couldn’t contain himself, he extricated himself from the canvas chair and threw his arms around Arthur’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder unable to believe he was really here. This really was shaping up to be the best birthday of all time.

 

“I’ll see her on Monday,” he whispered into warm skin, “but it’s been almost a month since I saw you. I think I can cope.”

Arthur felt him smile.

 

“Arthur!” Gwaine’s surprised shout carried easily across the back garden and caught everyone’s attention. Everyone was looking at the two students wrapped awkwardly around each other on the stripy chairs. Gwaine sent Arthur a sly wink, as if he knew exactly why he’d turned up so unexpectedly and blown off an annual, public royal engagement in the process. Following Valentine’s Day Arthur had dropped more than one hint about his feelings towards Merlin. Gwaine wasn’t stupid; he had back off immediately and Arthur had a suspicion he’d actually been encouraging Merlin. Besides, he was quickly distracted by a heavy set six foot something member of the Oxford Blues rowing crew. He’d been discrete which Arthur was grateful for, but it made him feel just that bit lighter to know he was very _very_ slowly letting his friends in on the biggest secret he had ever kept.

 

A slightly older woman, who Arthur had to assume was Merlin’s mother, rushed towards them as they were separating from each other and sank into a mini curtsey. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Your highness, we had no idea you would be here today,” she side-eyed Merlin. “If I had known we could have got something a bit more fancy together, bought some champagne and made some food other than grilled meat. If there is anything I can get you just let me know and I’ll send Merlin down to the shops to get it. Anything.”  
“Oi! It’s _my_ birthday mum.”

But his indignant outburst was ignored. Instead Arthur took Hunith’s hand and brought it up to his lips to place a kiss to the back of it. Merlin rolled his eyes again, _such a bloody charmer._

 

“That’s terribly kind of you Mrs Emrys, but I was rather looking forward to not being a prince this afternoon. As far as anyone here today is aware I’m just another university friend of your son’s.”  
Merlin heard Will scoff loudly where he was still manning the grill.

“Really, just call me Arthur and treat me as you would any other guest; I don’t need any special treatment, especially since it’s Merlin’s day today.”

 

Hunith beamed at him,

“You’re so much like your sister, Arthur.”

His face froze in shock for a moment before he regained control of his features and just about managed a smile.

 

Throughout the afternoon Arthur chatted to all his friends, some of whom he hadn’t seen since his own birthday. He made sure to not spend too much time with Merlin lest it rouse suspicion. But to those who were looking for it there were small gestures that made it clear the two of them were a bit more than just friends, even if neither of them knew quite _what_ they were.

Arthur would brush just a bit too close to Merlin when they passed each other, Merlin let his hand linger on Arthur’s just a bit too long when he handed him a plate of cake or Arthur would place his hand across the small of Merlin’s back to guide him to the table of presents.

Morgana, it turned out, had got him a high end camera with a note saying,

‘It’s about time you started a wall of your own’

Gwen had gifted him a set of wooden frames to go with the camera. From Percy he got a huge case of imported, high end beer, a vintage Doctor Who lunchbox from Gwaine and a beautifully soft cashmere jumper from Lance. Arthur had whispered that it was better than all of Merlin’s current wardrobe combined. Gaius had given him all the textbooks he would need the following year (as dull as it sounds Merlin was grateful to have been saved a small fortune) and he’d already had his present from Will: _How to be nobility for Dummies_ which he’d promptly hit him over the head with.

The table was now cleared so Merlin turned to Arthur, trying not to look disappointed that he didn’t have a present. He supposed Arthur was present enough.

“Mine’s still in the glove compartment of my car, shall I?” He started to stand but Merlin took his hand to pull him back down again. “It can wait, you’re staying over right?”

“Oh, I -” He was put off by the directness of the request, in front of all these people who didn’t know their _situation_. Until Merlin amended,

“With everyone else. We’ve covered the living room in blankets and pillows.”

 _Oh_. Arthur nodded, happy for an excuse to spend more time with Merlin. He was quickly realising just how much he would do for just a few more moments. He was going to have to do something about it soon.

“Nonsense, Merlin! Arthur can sleep in your room. We can’t let royalty just loll about on our _floor_!” She seemed absolutely horrified at the notion but Arthur was quick to assure he would rather be treated like everyone else and be with his friends. They managed to compromise; he would sleep on the sofa.

***

They all helped to put the garden back together and Will ducked out of the front door to head home since he was only around the corner and the living room floor could only fit so many bodies on it. Thus Merlin was in his own room.

 

He was woken by a creaking noise. Blearily he looked across at his alarm clock which read 01:23. He sat up on his elbows in bed. He could just about make out Arthur coming through his bedroom door and wondered if he was still dreaming. He crossed the room and pulled back the covers to climb into bed next to Merlin. He hadn’t brought any pyjamas with him so was in just his boxers and a soft cotton shirt he’d had in the back of his car. Rather than curling up to Merlin though, he reached behind him to turn on the bedside lamp. Merlin squinted and flailed in the sudden brightness.

“You didn’t think I’d forget your present, did you?”  
“Arthur,” his voice was still rough from sleep, “it’s not my birthday anymore.”  
“Meh,” he shrugged, “a technicality.”

 

He pressed a small, blue velvet jewellery pouch into one of Merlin’s hands. He raised a curious eyebrows in the blondes direction as he loosened the ties and tipped the small bag upside down. Something small and metal fell into his hand. He picked it up between his fingers. It was a ring. More specifically it was Arthur’s ring, the one he wore on his finger and was forever fiddling with. Merlin looked down at his hand, just to check it really was the same ring and that Arthur was no longer wearing it. He took the ring from between Merlin’s fingers and pushed it onto his thumb. It was a bit large on his more slender fingers but it didn’t seem to fall off.

“I want you to look after it for me, so I know there’s a part of me with you even when I’m not.”  
Merlin hadn’t ever thought he was the romantic, sentimental type but the gesture was making him want to gush. It felt like a huge moment in their unconventional relationship.

“It’s just a ring though, don’t start thinking it’s something it isn’t. Elena was worried you might which is why it’s not in a ring box like I’d originally planned. She thought you might see the box and run before I could explain. It’s got the family crest carved on the inside. Over the years Morgana and I have given all our closest friends something monogramed with the Pendragon crest as a symbol that we think of them as brothers and sisters. As family. That’s what this is. Admittedly it’s more intimate than most of our previous gifts.”

He lifted the ring to his mouth and kissed it, the warmth of his breath contrasting with the cool silver against Merlin’s skin.

“And there’s more.”

Merlin was already too stunned to verbalise anything and there was _more_. Arthur had already given him a personal gift, something of his own, to signify he was family and there was still more. He couldn’t see any more packages on Arthur’s person though. Instead he reached back to turn the light off and pulled Merlin down and flush against his chest so he was the little spoon to Arthur’s big spoon. He put his lips to Merlin’s ear and whispered, the warmth of his breath making the tiny hairs down his neck stand to attention.

“I broke off my engagement with Elena.”

Merlin tried to wiggle round to face Arthur but he just pulled his arms tighter to hold him in place.

“I realised that I’m sick of pretending. You made me realise that. She’s always known that I never loved her as anything more than a sister but she was willing to do her royal duty and play a part for me. She’s too good. I went home after my birthday and sat down with her for a long conversation.”

“You mean you’ve known this for a whole month and you’re only telling me _now!_ ” He cried in exasperation.

“Shh. Besides, it was hardly the subject for a quick text. She knows I’ve never been fully comfortable with our relationship but it was the best way to please my father, and the nation, and create the heir that the whole world demands of me. But the world is modernising, slowly but it is happening. So why shouldn’t the monarchy modernise too. Parliament only last year passed a bill to legalise gay marriage, so nothing is legally standing in my way anymore. And I know Elena has always wanted to fall in love for real, but couldn’t. In the end it was an all too easy decision to make. Even if I hadn’t met you I like to think I would have done it anyway before we got to Westminster Abbey; it was too much like a prison sentence for both of us. We haven’t told anyone else yet, but we will. Soon. I want to start being myself around friends. And Morgana, she’ll be the first person I tell as soon as I next see her. So now I can ask you, properly, if you’ll be my boyfriend. It’ll have to stay secret for the time being, but it can be official.”

Merlin didn’t give him an answer, instead he leaned his head back to pull Arthur into a long kiss which spoke all the words for him.

“You know, there’s one more thing we can do to make it really official.”

He turned around fully, to face Arthur, and put his hands flat against his chest under the soft t-shirt. He hooked his thumbs over the hem and ran his hands up the planes of Arthur’s chest, pulling the shirt up as he went.

“And you won’t be needing clothes for it.”


	10. 10 June

_10 June_

_ _

Merlin had sent a proper invite to this particular event. Using Morgana’s influence (and her purse strings) he’d been able to secure a ticket for Arthur to attend St John’s May Ball. It was only his first year at Cambridge so he’d decided to just stick to his own college’s ball. Gwen and Lance would be joining them since Churchill’s lack of a May Ball left them feeling left out. Morgana had offered to pay for all their tickets, despite the hefty £150 price per person. By June though everyone knew better than to try and stop Morgana when she got an idea into her head. She would be bringing Leon. They were all going to do the proper date thing. Merlin had never felt better; exams were over, Elena had left the country so he finally felt free and Arthur had agreed to go with him as his date to a semi-public event. Yes, they’d agreed that there could be no public displays of affection but Arthur would be spending the night in Merlin’s room before heading back to Oxford to prepare for his graduation ceremony. And the secrecy surrounding their relationship was becoming less of an issue for Merlin now that they had opened up to their friends.

 

 

Arthur had treated them all to a private dinner to celebrate the end of their exams where he’d also announced his fledgling relationship with Merlin. He hadn’t actually run it past Merlin first but he was too ecstatic to care; telling people made the whole thing seem more real. Gwaine, of course, had already worked it all out and been a source of advice for Merlin for a while and it seemed he’d told his boyfriend too given how appalling Percy had been at acting shocked at the news. Gwen had beamed with happiness, hugging them both and telling them how happy they seemed and how happy that made her in turn. Leon and Lance had been more restrained in their congratulations, slapping Arthur on the back in that weird way men are want to do, and smiling at Merlin. He could sense how much of a relief it was to Arthur that all his friends had accepted his news without really batting an eyelid. Only Morgana stayed silent. She seemed upset at something.

“I can’t believe you, Arthur Pendragon.”

He gulped, still standing from his announcement. Merlin grappled for his hand and squeezed it to show he was right them for him.

“I’ve known you for twenty one years, I’m your _sister_ and you didn’t once think to even mention to me that you’re gay. I know we haven’t always been best friends or anything soppy like that, but I’ve always had your back. Even when you were little, probably too little to remember, I was the one who stood up for you in the face of Uther. Yet you couldn’t, what, trust me? Is that it, you didn’t trust me to keep your secret? Or where you worried I would judge you for your sexuality. I’ll be extremely hurt if that’s the case. How could you ever think so little of me?”

There were tears in her eyes, even Leon’s touch couldn’t calm her. Merlin and Arthur’s guests all excused themselves at once to the bathroom. _As if_. Merlin wasn’t sure if he should leave the two siblings alone, but Arthur’s death grip on his hand made up his mind for him. After a few seemingly endless moments he walked around the table to pull his raven haired sister into a fierce hug.

“It’s not about that ‘Gana, it’s never been about that. In this crazy life of ours I know you’ve always been my closest ally, sometimes my only ally. I fact I kept this huge part of my life hidden is a reflection on me, not you. This is a huge game changer and there were days when I was too scared to really accept it myself let alone share my sexuality with anyone else. I’ll admit I was scared to tell you, a bit. Not because I thought you would hate me for it, but because you’d have to remind me of the harsh reality of my duty. I couldn’t bear for you of all people to be the one to tell me I could never have what I dreamed of.”

 

Merlin was able to slip out of the room unnoticed. He wasn’t sure what else was said, but by the time he and everyone else returned to their private room both siblings were smiling and had tears drying on their cheeks. Morgana pulled him into a hug too and planted a fat kiss on his lips to ‘welcome him to the folds of the Pendragon family.’ At that he had thumbed over the silver ring he was still wearing.

 

Now it was as if Morgana had always known and was throwing herself behind their relationship as if desperate to make up for lost time. Hence her insistence that he invite his _boyfriend_ to the May Ball at her expense. She’d also refused to let him pay for the white tie suit he’d been forced to buy for the dress code. Morgana had even dusted off her tiara for the event. Merlin had never seen so many diamonds. All their Cambridge students were crammed into Gwen’s room. They had been moving between hers and Lance’s since about one in the afternoon to begin the (long in the case of the girls) process of getting ready for the ball after they’d been kicked out of John’s so the ents could set up. He’d been grateful to have Lance there to tie his white bowtie. It was now coming up to seven o’clock. The girls were putting the finishing touches to their make up and the champagne was flowing. Any minute now they would be leaving college to meet their guests and head over to the ball.

 

They found two impeccably dressed men leaning against the Møller centre like a scene out of a film. As Merlin and Morgana caught their eyes it wouldn’t be an understatement to say jaws dropped. Leon started to tell Morgana how beautiful she looked in her elegant, satin, sapphire blue gown. Arthur, true to form, went with a less conventional compliment.

“Merlin! I’ve never seen you look so clean.”  
Merlin rolled his eyes but allowed the prince to pull him in for a hug.

“You do look amazing tonight though,” he whispered intimately. Merlin couldn’t help the smile threatening to split his face.

 

They coupled up, linking arms with or taking the hand of their respective partner and began the ten minute walk to John’s.

 

As they arrived they could see the façade of the college lit up with a multitude of coloured lights. The theme was ‘The Golden Age of Film’ so as they handed over their tickets and passed under the gatehouse they stepped onto a red carpet where fake paparazzi were stationed to photograph the arriving students. While Morgana posed with Leon, Arthur hurried Merlin along saying he’d experienced too much of the real thing to enjoy a fake. As they passed through the courtyards there was nods to great films that could be used as photograph opportunities, such as a Tiffany’s front window, a display of replica _Braveheart_ shields and even a huge clapperboard with ‘St John’s 2014’ scrawled on it in chalk. Merlin thought the committee had really outdone themselves.

As suggested by friends in the years above, he lead Arthur straight through college and over the Bridge of Sighs to the large parkland area where the stalls and tents were set up. Snacks of popcorn and pic ‘n’ mix were available to compliment the cinema experience and cocktails were being served in paper cinema style cups. Merlin though needed some proper food in him before he could drink and really enjoy the party so he dragged Arthur to the hotdog stand and joined the queue.

***

By the time of the famous fireworks Merlin and Arthur had found themselves a punt on the Cam with the other four, and were all wrapped up in blankets looking skyward. Merlin was planning to have a nap afterwards to ensure he would make it to the survivors’ photo at six am the next morning. The food had been brilliant, the alcohol had been plentiful and the entertainment had been entertaining. Neither Merlin or Arthur had hit the bottle hard to ensure they would be able to enjoy their morning together before Arthur headed back to Oxford and neither Lance or Leon were big drinkers, but the same could not be said of the girls who were giggling loudly together while they waited for the show to start. Gwen, unsteady on her feet, had almost fallen into the river and would have if not for Lance’s quick reflexes.

 

Under the blanket and out of sight, Arthur was lazily tracing patterns on the hip of an increasingly drowsy Merlin. Despite being out in public and with friends, the atmosphere felt calm and intimate. Merlin snuggled further into Arthur’s chest and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

 

The first firework whistled up and burst overhead in a shower of gold that lit up the sixteenth century college and reflected off the river to create a really magical effect. Bursts of red, green, silver and gold lit up the sky for the next half an hour until it was so bright it could almost have been daylight. Merlin was completely enraptured by the bright flashes, not taking his eyes off the sky, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ with his fellow students at all the appropriate moments. Arthur, who had seen his fair share of incredible fireworks displays, found Merlin’s face to provide a better show. He watched as the various colours flashed across his face, lighting up his expression of childlike awe. As the display drew to its close, flecks of ash began drifting on the light breeze, like a grey snowfall. It only added to the magical feeling of the night. Here, with his boyfriend in his arms, his sister by his side and surrounded by friends, anything felt possible.

As Merlin turned to Gwen to gush over the ‘breath taking fireworks’ he let out a few whispered words.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 

 

Just three days later Merlin was back in a suit, this time a charcoal grey one which Morgana assured him really brought out his colouring, and walking the streets of Oxford for the first time. Arthur wasn’t with him, but he had his arm looped through Morgana’s as they strolled ahead of the king.

 

Arthur had asked Merlin to be one of his three guests at his graduation. Flattered at being included with Arthur’s only family, he had readily accepted. Only later had he realised it would mean another day spent with Uther who wasn’t really Merlin’s favourite person and had a tendency to bring out a nasty side of Morgana. So far, though, she had been on her best behaviour.

 

Graduation was being held at the Sheldonian Theatre, a round building in the centre of the university town. The royal party and Merlin were quickly shown to their seats front centre, right by where the graduating students would be. The king had agreed to give a brief speech, but had insisted on nothing more lest his detract from _Arthur’s_ special day. Morgana had told Merlin she’d had to remind the king of that.

 

Leon and Percy would also be graduating so Merlin knew Gwaine was somewhere here with his boyfriend’s mother and little sister, but he had yet to see him. He would be in the cheap seats anyway, perks of royalty he supposed. They hadn’t seen the soon to be graduates either, they had opted to spend a final morning in college with everyone else. Already bored of waiting for proceedings to start, Merlin turned his attention to the ceiling which seemed to depict a celestial scene of some kind.

“Merlin,” he snapped to attention at the sound of the king’s voice, “I’m still not sure how you came to be such a good friend of my son so quickly, to the point that he invited you to this ceremony with his family.”

Merlin had the sense he was being judged, he just wasn’t quite sure what for. “But Morgana tells me you have been a calming influence in his life.” He could see her smiling at him encouragingly behind her father’s shoulder. “And I’ve heard several of his friends mention how happy he’s been since he met you. Following his, ahem, _unfortunate_ separation from Elena he tells me you’ve been a great source of comfort to him. So I suppose I ought to thank you for being his friend, and for doing so honestly and with no strings attached.”

He put his hand out to shake Merlin’s, which he did uncomfortably. _Honestly_. Merlin and Arthur were anything but honest when it came to what Uther knew of their friendship. Everyone else of any importance in Arthur’s life knew the truth, but he had yet to find the courage to tell his conservative father who felt it was his duty to uphold the tradition of the monarchy. Merlin had promised he would be there to support Arthur whenever he was ready.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat,

“It has been a pleasure your majesty.”

“Indeed. Maybe you can encourage him to seek a new bride, especially now his studies are behind him.”

 

The sound of applause signalled the arrival of the graduating students and thankfully meant Merlin avoided having to fumble his way through an appropriate response.

Uther was introduced and stepped up to the podium to deliver his speech. Merlin didn’t even pretend to listen, instead searching for Arthur’s face among the hundreds of others. He quickly picked out his blonde head somewhere in the middle. He too seemed to be zoning out of his father’s speech as every face around him listened with rapt attention as the _king himself_ gave the guest of honour speech at their graduation ceremony.

 

His eyes met Merlin’s and he rolled his eyes, before miming falling asleep. Merlin had to quickly stifle a giggle. Morgana gave him an odd look, before turning back to the students, presumably seeking out Leon.

 

Merlin let his mind wander, as it was want to do. _A bride_. He wondered if he would ever be that bride. Did Arthur envision himself married to Merlin? Or would he grow bored of his first ever foray into a gay relationship and move on to someone more exciting and of his social standing. He found himself surprised to realise he would be proud of Arthur despite who he married, as long as he found the strength to be waiting at the alter for a man. If he ever found the courage to be true to himself Merlin couldn’t imagine feeling anything but pride for him. But Arthur’s whispered words in the punt just days before had got him thinking: if Arthur gave him the opportunity would he want to be condemned to a life of royalty? He wasn’t sure yet. But every day it seemed harder to remember the negatives of a lifetime spent with Arthur.

 

Slowly Arthur was introducing him to the public through being seen together at events and the like. Just as a friend for the moment, but he had to hope one day Arthur would be able to publically acknowledge him as more.

Looking up at him in his graduation gown, the fur collar almost framing his face, Merlin knew for certain that Arthur would be the man to modernise the monarchy.


	11. 11 July

_11 July_

_ _

 

**Happily Never After**

**_Prince Arthur has called it quits on his fairytale romance with his now ex fiancée Her Royal Highness Princess Elena of Denmark_ **

 

_In the early hours of yesterday evening Prince Arthur called a press conference at Clarence House. In the very same room where last year he and Princess Elena announced their engagement, he now stood alone to announce their separation. Last month Elena flew back to her family in Denmark. At the time is was thought she was going to make wedding arrangements, but it’s now clear she was in fact leaving London to return home for good._

_The couple broke off their engagement in April, around the time of Arthur’s twenty first birthday but have waited until now to break the news publically. Of the delay Prince Arthur said “we needed time to deal with our separation and get our affairs in order privately before going public. As I’m sure you can appreciate we had to go through everything with our families and friends before they read about it in the press.”_

_The young couple were close from an early age, largely due to the late Queen Igraine’s connection to the Danish royal family. The two spent their summer’s together growing up and few were surprised to learn of their relationship or their subsequent engagement. As with his parents, Arthur’s relationship came to be regarded as a true fairy tale romance._

_Yet the Prince didn’t seem to be troubled by his announcement. It was, apparently, a “mutual decision to part ways” due to their “simply falling out of love.” He later confessed he wasn’t sure if they had ever been in love; “when you’ve known someone you’re whole life who isn’t your sibling,” he told the press, “I think it becomes easy to mistake a wonderful friendship for love.”_

_He refused to answer any questions, simply concluding the press conference by stating, “I, like any man, deserve the chance to fall in love and marry that person I fall in love with.”_

_There have been mixed responses from the British public. One woman said she felt “betrayed” by Arthur and his change of heart while several others commended him for following his heart and refusing to crack under the pressure of the job._

_Already there is speculation as to what may have brought about Arthur and Elena’s decision as they had been no hint of trouble in paradise until now. There are rumours that Arthur may have feelings for someone else, prompted in part by his closing statement. Although no-one yet seems to have any idea who the lucky woman could be, and he certainly hasn’t been seen out with any new female friends. Others have suggested that the strain of a foreign husband and living abroad became too much for Elena who has always spoken of how close she is to her family, her father King Godwyn in particular._

_Whatever the reason one thing seems certain, Prince Arthur is clearly comfortable with his new single life and seems to be relishing the freedom it brings if his smile is anything to go by. Some reporters seem to think his smile almost looked as if it were holding a secret. Maybe a mysterious new girlfriend we’ll hear more of in the coming days and weeks. Or perhaps a princely secret we’ll never privy to!_

_We wish both Arthur and Elena well in their futures, even if it means we’ll have to wait a bit longer for a big royal wedding and a day off from work._

“Ladies please,” Arthur knocked on the bathroom door for a third time, “the cars are waiting downstairs.”  
The door flew open and Arthur had to jump back to avoid being hit on the nose. Morgana emerged in a cloud of heady perfume. She was wearing a sinfully tight pure white sundress, a navy blue blazer over her arm and a pair of dior sunglasses perched on her head and holding her hair back from her face. Arthur had never seen Leon look so excited. Personally, he was terrified. Then again when wasn’t he at least a bit scared of Morgana?

Merlin trailed out behind her not looking as comfortable as her in the clothes she’d picked out for him. Arthur thought he’d never looked better in brown brogues, cream chinos and a pale blue oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the top button undone. Morgana even seemed to have put some product in his hair so it looked like a slightly more tamed version of the bed hair Arthur loved so much on him. He looked casual and relaxed in a summery way, but still smart enough for the royal box. He had the cashmere jumper from Lance in his hands, just in case it got chilly in the evening. Arthur was similarly dressed in navy blue chinos and a white shirt with his signature aviators hanging out of the open collar. He had a small British flag pinned to his shirt lapel, just in case people _didn’t_ know who he would be supporting today.

 

Merlin tugged uncomfortably at his belt and Arthur slapped his hands away. He took his hands to make sure they would stay away from his buckle. He ran his thumb happily over the ring sitting on Merlin’s thumb.

“Knowing you you’ll pull down your trousers by mistake.”

He started herding everyone out of St James Palace to the waiting cars in the courtyard.

“I hate tennis,” Merlin complained, not for the first time.

“No you don’t. It’s perfectly harmless, what could you possibly have to hate.”

“It’s so dull. All they do is toss a ball back and forwards while the crowd all get sore necks watching. And it’s too hot.”  
He let his head loll despondently against the leather headrest in the Bentley.

“I’ll ply you with champagne and strawberries and cream all day.”

 

The truth was, as much as Merlin really did find tennis horribly dull, he was touched that Arthur had asked him to join him in the royal box for the Wimbledon final. He’d thought it would be a good idea for the public to start getting used to seeing them together and he’d been worried that if he’d shown up alone people might think he was pining for Elena. It would be like a secret date for them.

 

“And sex. You can ply me with sex too.”

“I’m sure I can manage that.” He leaned across the car to crowd Merlin’s space, his face inches away. “Maybe not during the match though.”

Merlin reached out to grab Arthur’s shirt and pull him closer, but Arthur leaned back out of reach.

 

“Fucking _tease_.”

Arthur just smiled his slightly crooked grin, the one that showed off his not quite perfect teeth.

“I refuse to arrive at Wimbledon looking rumpled and debauched, what will people think? And knowing you you’ll slip on the leather and pull my shirt clean off as you go down.”

“Arthur,” he closed his nose and took a deep breath through clenched teeth, “let’s not talk about going down, okay?”

His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

He’d been staying with Morgana at St James Palace since Easter term had ended, he had a summer internship at the British Library so she had jumped at the chance to spend more time for him. And, as she’d pointed out, it meant he and Arthur could spend more time together behind closed doors because there would be nothing suspicious about him spending time at his sister’s. They had more than made the most of it whenever they could between Merlin’s shifts and Arthur’s frequent public appearances to make up for a year of privacy at university – it was an unofficial agreement between the press and the palace.

Morgana constantly made lewd jokes around the pair of them (secretly, Arthur was just happy she had been so immediately accepting) as if all they ever did was have sex. Which wasn’t far from the truth, but they’d also been using the time to get to know each other. Arthur was trying to be romantic and take Merlin on dates without leaving the house. So far he had cooked for him (at least that’s what he’d said, but Merlin had seen takeaway packaging in the bins the same day he was just too much of a good boyfriend to say anything) which they had eaten on the patio, spent an entire day cocooned in bed with white chocolate dipped raspberries to sustain them and Arthur had even pitched a tent in the gardens so they could sleep under the stars. And now Wimbledon was a date of sorts. Merlin was nervous, he could admit it; this was the first time he would be seen publically with Arthur since his graduation and people were now aware of Arthur and Elena’s break up. Morgana was clearly bringing Leon as a date, so he was worried it would be obvious Arthur was doing the same with him.

 

“Stop panicking,” he placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s knee, like in the helicopter some months ago. He rubbed his thumb along the seam of his trousers in what he hopped was a comforting gesture but in actual fact only served to turn Merlin on even more. But contact did normally help Merlin calm down so he curled his whole body into Arthur’s side and let his head rest in the crook of his neck. In the warmth of his body, surrounded by the scent of his Armani aftershave and the more subtle smell of the fabric softener brand used by the palace. It was starting to smell like home, which was all frighteningly quick, especially considering how impossible their relationship still seemed to be at times.

***

Merlin was right, tennis was dull. He’d already sat through the women’s doubles final which had, at least, only lasted two games. By the second game of the men’s singles final he had stopped watching the match altogether and was instead watching everyone else, the ball boys, the line judges, the umpire in his chair who seemed to be wilting just slightly in the heat and all the spectators, many of whom were trying to subtly take pictures of them in the royal box. Others weren’t being quite so discrete. Merlin knew he should care because Andy Murray a Brit, was defending his Wimbledon title but there was only so long he could be entertained by a small green ball being whacked backwards and forwards. He didn’t understand why the crowd ooh’ed and ahh’ed or clapped after each point was won. The only positive was Arthur.

 

The two of them were sitting alone in the front row of the royal box with Leon and Morgana sat behind them. When the players had come onto the court they had turned to the box to acknowledge the royal family. Arthur had stood for the moment which was probably the first time Merlin had actually seen Arthur in a princely capacity, rather than behind closed doors where he _knew_ he was a prince but without seeing all the public duties. He felt unexpectedly proud. Morgana had leaned forwards, no doubt giving all the cameras a splendid view of her cleavage in the process, to whisper into Merlin’s ear,

“That’s your man.”

He hadn’t been able to contain his smile, which probably looked amplified to stupid proportions on the television cameras. He was sure Will, if he was even watching this dull sport, would have been laughing his head off, probably snapping pictures of the screen too.

 

Morgana had presented the trophies after the doubles match and was now back in her seat, practically sitting in Leon’s lap as she fed him strawberries. Merlin could only imagine what choice words Uther would let out when he saw the television pictures.

He and Arthur were discrete. The blonde had flung his arm around the back of Merlin’s hard green plastic seat under the pretence of getting comfortable, but it allowed Arthur to run his fingers across Merlin’s shoulder without the cameras seeing. It was slightly torturous. The front of the box meant the cameras couldn’t see anything below their waists either so Arthur dropped his arm to tuck it around Merlin’s waist. He untucked part of the blue oxford and ran the pads of his fingers just slightly over Merlin’s pale flesh. More of a graze than a proper touch. He took a fortifying gulp of his champagne, the bubbles dancing down the back of his throat.

***

Arthur kept up his torture until the final few sets of the match in the fourth game. Murray was a break up and was serving for the championship. Arthur leaned forwards in his seat, his hands clasped in front of his face as if in prayer. Although he’d never taken his eyes off the match, only now was he giving it his full attention.

  
Murray missed his first serve and re-set for a second. It was in and out of reach of Djokovic. 15-love. The next serve was returned, Murray sent it back over the net and came forward on the court to neatly lob the ball just behind his opponent’s left heel; he could only look behind him as the ball bounced. The crowd let out a thunderous cheer. 30-love. Merlin was starting to see the appeal, when it came right down to the end and tensions were at their highest it became considerably more exciting as a spectator.

The next serve was an ace. Never a better time for one. 40-love. Murray was now at championship point for the second time in as many years. Merlin could feel Arthur literally vibrating with excitement next to him.

And then, a double fault. He nervously ran his hands through his blonde hair and took a steadying breath as if it were him out there on the court serving while an entire nation watched. 40-15, he could still do this. Djokovic spun his racket as he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the ball to sail over the net. He won the rally. Murray challenged the call. Thousands of heads turned to the screens and waited with baited breath as hawkeye replayed the placing of the ball. The umpire’s call had been the right one though. 40-30.

“Not deuce,” Arthur murmured to one-one in particular, “I can’t handle deuce.”

 

The first serve was out by miles. Arthur clutched Merlin’s leg.

The second was perfect, right down the line. Djokovic dove to his left but could only watch as the ball flew past the outer reaches of his racket and hit the wall behind. Murray dropped to his knees. Arthur jumped into the air, pulling Merlin up with him. He couldn’t help but be swept up in the excitement. They composed themselves as Andy Murray turned to bow in their direction. Arthur clapped harder. He would be presenting this trophy and started to make his way out of the box. He turned back to Merlin one final time for a bone crushing hug and whispered into his ear,

“I love you,” before dancing down the steps.

It was that l-word again. Merlin fell back into his seat rather unceremoniously.


	12. 12 August

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for the lateness of this final chapter other than, I suppose, that real life got in the way. Also I lost the chapter for a while.   
> Thank you so much for all your lovely feedback and comments, I hope this last chapter is worth the wait!  
> My beta hasn't seen this one so any mistakes are my own and I'll correct them if you point them out

_12 August_

__

 

 

Merlin opened the door to the small cottage and was immediately pulled into a kiss. By his boyfriend. Arthur Pendragon. The Prince of Wales. Nope, it wasn’t getting old yet; he was still very much enjoying being able to say that. His mother, still dressed in her dressing gown, came to investigate who had been knocking so impatiently before she’d even finished her breakfast. She even had a crumpet in her hand. Which she promptly dropped at the sight that greeted her: Arthur pulling his lips from Merlin’s and reaching up to brush a few stray crumbs of toast from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm really sorry to just barge in like this; unexpectedly. But there wasn't really anytime for me to give you any warning because this has all been very last minute and I wasn't even sure until an hour ago that I'd be able to go through with it. So," the young prince turned his attention to his even younger lover, "are you ready to leave?"

Merlin's eyes bugged out of his head and he started to cough as he choked on the bit of dry toast he'd just put into his mouth. Without so much as blinking Arthur whacked him on the back.

"All you'll need is your passport."

"P-passport?" he wheezed, his face slowly losing its dark purple hue as he regained his breath.

Miraculously, Huinith seemed to be keeping her emotions in check and was remaining level headed for the most part. Apart from her death grip on her son's elbow, you would never know from looking at her that the Prince of Wales had turned up unannounced at her front door to whisk her only son abroad. And all before she'd even finished making her morning cup of Earl Grey (sp?).

"It's in the kitchen sideboard, I'll go and get it for you sweetie while you go and get your shoes and socks on."

Merlin looked absently down at his bare toes buried in the thick shag of the carpet. He wasn't even wearing proper clothes, just his threadbare sweatpants and a worn Oxford rowing shirt of Arthur's that fell just above his knees. His state of dress didn't seem to be a concern of Arthur's though. He got the distinct impression he was missing something. Had he and Arthur had a conversation that he'd tuned out of, like he often did when political matters were brought up. He just smiled and tried to nod in all the right places. Or had Arthur spoken to his mum? Which would explain why she was so calm, except she was horrible at keeping secrets, especially where any member of the royal family were concerned. It was a miracle she hadn't told half the village who her son was dating. Besides, if his mum had been expecting a visit she never would have come down to breakfast with her terycloth dressing gown on and no make up on at all.

"Hey," Arthur took his chin and drew his gaze up. There was a slight worried look marring his features and Merlin was reminded how lucky he was that the prince let him see this side of him; let him see anything other than the highly polished and press ready version of Prince Arthur. "Is this a bad surprise? Because I can cancel the car and we can just spend the weekend here in deepest Wales, curled up on the sofa if you'd prefer. I'm sure there's some episodes of Great British Bake Off (??) we could watch. I just thought a change of scenery and a break from the ever prying eyes of the press might be nice."

Merlin felt a shy smile spread over his face; he couldn't deny it felt nice to have someone want to surprise him like that and Arthur had probably put a lot of work into convincing people, not least his father, to let his just leave the country for a few days. He just, as a general rule, preferred to be in the know. He also liked to have had at least one full meal before any surprises were sprung on him.

"No," he voice was quietly reverent (??), "let's just disappear for a few days."

He thundered up the stairs to get his shoes on and his mother pressed Merlin's passport into Arthur's hand. He hoped to god he didn't look at the awful washed out passport photo Merlin had had taken three years ago, but he didn't really expect god to hear him.

 

 

Merlin was relieved not to find Morgana hidden away in the sleek black car waiting for them at the end of the path. As much as he hated surprises, some alone time with Arthur sounded absolutely perfect to Merlin. Given who exactly he was dating, that was something of a luxury and was set to become even more so what with Arthur now finished with university and taking up more and more official duties coupled with Merlin on the verge of starting his second, even more demanding, year at Cambridge. Alone time for the couple seemed to be fading into the distance.

***

Merlin got no more clues as to their destination as they made their way to Cardiff (??) airport. Arthur, of course, had arranged for them to fly with his father's private plane. He wasn't sure what the young prince had had to say to get him to agree to that. Merlin was no better a flier with aeroplanes than he was with helicopters, but this time his prince was able to hold his hand and squeeze it back as they soared into the sky. And all the mod cons of a private plane, such as a large television, wifi, fully stocked bar helped to relax Merlin even more. Although he swore he was only slightly tipsy when he reached out, again, for Arthur's hand during the descent. They were in Italy, but he could only even be sure of that because the driver of the car that had picked them up straight from the tarmac had greeted him in Italian, "buon giorno signor Emrys."

From wherever they were they drove south, Merlin dozing against Arthur and drooling on his shoulder. The stress of flying had tired him out and it certainly didn't hurt to sleep off the alcohol he'd drunk before arriving at their final destination, wherever it may be!

 

***

 

It was a small town called Sorrento with an almost provincial feel to it right on the Mediterranean. Arthur himself started to unload what few bags he had packed for them both from the boot of the car. He heard the shutter sound of a camera and turned to find Merlin, iPhone in hand and a grin on his face.

"Sorry, but Morgana would never believe me if I didn't have proof. Prince Arthur actually doing his own dirty work and carrying his _own_ luggage!" He laughed and snapped another photo of Arthur's indignant expression. "You know, it might even be one for the wall!"

He stooped to pick up and the bags, "must I remind you that I'm not actually up my own arse."

"No," Merlin breezed past him in the direction of the front door and whispered, "but I'd quite like to be."

He wasn't sure what had got into him, maybe he was still a bit drunk or maybe it was the fresh air and sea breeze but he was sure Arthur would appreciate it either way. He stood on the front step waiting for the blonde to overcome the shock and let him into the small house. To Merlin it looked like the Italian version of the cottage he had grown up in and that he'd come from that morning. There were vines trailing up the front and the brickwork was cracked in places. The panes of the windows were painted in colours that had once been bright but were now faded and starting to chip. Even the stone step on which he was standing had worn away at the edge from so much use and a lack of up keeping. With the late summer sun overhead and the faint sounds of the ocean, Merlin wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more inviting place. It certainly wasn't the sort of place he would have expected Arthur to bring him; he may not be as arrogant as Merlin had once thought and he'd often expressed how much he enjoyed spending time at Hunith's house when he could get away from London, but he always struck Merlin as someone that enjoyed the comforts and style of modern living. Even his own, private quarters at royal residences were mostly neutral colours and devoid of many personal touches, completely unlike the more welcoming and homier rooms that his sister occupied.

He heard Arthur's footsteps coming up the garden path and turned his face away from the son to look at him. Arthur fumbled in his pocket for a key as their car drove off back down the winding roads. Merlin could hardly remember the last time he'd been completely alone with his boyfriend which, when he thought about it, was absolutely ridiculous. As if reading his mind Arthur explained,

"Two of my security team are staying in a nearby hotel which my father would completely disapprove of so no one has told it.   It certainly helps that my team all like you! I wasn't sure I'd be able to convince them to go along with it otherwise. Aha!" He triumphantly help the keys aloft and reached past Merlin to unlock the door. "I haven't actually been here before, I only recently bought it as a sort of graduation gift for myself."

"Of course you did," Merlin rolled his eyes but patted the older man's cheek affectionately, "most people would be lucky to get a car or something but the prince of wales just _had_ to buy himself a holiday home."

"It's not just for me, it's for us."

Merlin was sure he caught a glimpse of him blushing as Arthur pushed past, into the house and rather unceremoniously dumped their bags at the bottom of a small wooden staircase with a white banister and hand rail.

"Sorrento was special to my parents, they had their unofficial honeymoon here, the one not followed by the journalists and they often returned. I think it was like a secret retreat for them. My father hasn't been able to return to Italy since my mother died, but I was hoping that this could become a special place for us now and maybe we could be as happy here as they were."

He was definitely blushing now, and picking nervously at the skin around him thumb. He was still getting used to sharing himself with Merlin, all of his secrets and hopes and ambitions and memories.

Merlin walked to the back of the small rustically styled house. Or maybe it was just genuinely rustic. The kitchen had French doors that he threw open and stepped into the slightly wild garden. In keeping with the rest of the house it wasn't a large space, but there was just room for a swinging love seat. He gingerly sat in it, the metal frame groaning in protest. The sweet smell of a white flower he couldn't identify engulfed him as he looked out to the bay where he could see several small boats and yachts moored. This place certainly felt magical; he could just about make out people down by the water but he felt worlds away from them. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the late afternoon sun, letting the sense of tranquility wash over him. Some moments later the swing's frame groaned again as a warm body settled next to him. He smiled, but didn't open his eyes. Arthur took his hand, silently running his thumb over the silver ring. Merlin didn't always wear it, worried that he'd been seen wearing it and people would jump to conclusions, to the right conclusion. He tried to wear it as much as he could, whenever Arthur was around and he wore it without fair whenever he was alone. He'd been wearing it that morning when Arthur had turned up and he hadn't thought to take it off. It was somewhat silly, he knew, as Arthur had said all their close friends had something similar but he'd never actually seen them. Besides, this was _Arthur's_ ring and that made it somehow intrinsically different.

Merlin wasn't sure how long they sat there in silence, Arthur tracing patterns over his hand, but eventually the rumble of his stomach ruined the moment. He blushed apologetically, but Arthur just laughed and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, you haven't lived until you've tried authentic Italian food."

"Sure," Merlin replied swaying lazily on the spot," just let me change out of my pyjamas!"

"Hmm, I don't know." His arms encircled Merlin's narrow waist, "I quite like seeing you in my clothes."

Merlin's blush darkened, it wasn't his fault Arthur left so many of his tops lying around.

"Yes," he wriggled free, "but I'd prefer it if _only_ you saw me in them!"

 

***

 

Arthur felt confident enough to grab Merlin's hand as they walked down the winding road into the town proper. Merlin noticed that several of the shops they passed were selling lemon products - it was clearly a local specialty - and he'd be sure to pick something up for his mother before they left. Gwen too. It was nice to enjoy a holiday as boyfriends (a label they were becoming increasingly comfortable with) and all the perfectly normal things that entailed without having to worry about the threat of photographers around every corner. Arthur was by no means unknown in Italy at all. But his face wasn't as instantly recognisable as in the United Kingdom, and his pseudo anonymity increased as Italy got more rural. His sunglasses, fairly nondescript clothes and lack of an entourage or bodyguards helped to create the illusion that, even if he looked a bit like that English prince, he seemed a bit too ordinary for it to actually be him. Merlin was impressed by the effectiveness of it all.

 

They walked through a town square o sorts with a small fountain in the centre of the roundabout, several restaurants, a bank and a jewellers Arthur glanced at.

"Sorry, just a bit further. I'll be worth it though."

Merlin just hummed in contentment; he didn't mind the walk as it was probably the longest he'd ever been able to show off his boyfriend without the risk of cameras in their faces.

They passed another piazza of sorts with a small bar showing Italian football in an outdoor seating area. People were spilling onto the piazza, their eyes glued to the screen.

Finally Arthur came to a stop outside a bar/restaurant with a narrow entrance and cheesy Italian music pouring out of it.

"Whatever it may look like, this place does the best authentic southern Italian food. All the fish is caught fresh by the owner's son every morning right from this bay. And their limoncello is _lethal._ I ate every meal here when I was over looking at properties."

"In other words, I'd better be more adventurous in my ordering that a **margarita** pizza?" He raised an eyebrow as he'd learned from Gaius and Arthur shoved his shoulder, a touch on the rough side, before walking in.

A rather typical Italian man with a round stomach, receeding black hair and an apron around his waist looked up from cleaning glasses to offer them a jovial greeting. Arthur rattled off something in Italian that Merlin didn't understand. His reply was perfectly fluent and Merlin was a tad floored at how sexy he found the language on the tongue of the young prince. It was cliché but if this were a cartoon he was fairly sure there would be actual hearts in his eyes.

The Italian gentleman stepped out from behind the bar to lead them through the long restaurant to a table near the back. Merlin wasn't quite sure if this man knew who Arthur was and so was offering him as much privacy as he could, or if it was just a fortunate coincidence. He certainly hadn't heard the man call Arthur by name, just 'signor'.

Two menus were produced, but Arthur declined them instead, Merlin could only assume, ordering for the both of them. He waited until the waiter had retreated before kicking Arthur's shin under the table. He barely even flinched though.

"And why exactly couldn't I order my own food."

"You wouldn't have understood the menu," he smiled as two glasses of fresh lemonade were placed on the table, "and I like to think I know your tastes by now. Nothing too exotic, don't worry. In fact I'm sure you'll have eaten the butchered English version of what I've ordered you anyway. Now, drink your lemonade."

Merlin did. As he brought the glass back down to the table Arthur reached across to take his hand and rub his thumb over it in soothing gestures. Then he just let their clasped hands lie there on the table. It felt weird to Merlin, not something he'd ever really done before. It felt slightly awkward to have his arm just lying across the table and he certainly hoped he wasn't expected to eat with just his left hand, but it felt nice. He'd never before been with anyone who was really into public displays of affection in any way and he hadn't thought it was something he was particularly into until now either. But knowing that anyone who passed their table would see their hands and know that they were a couple, know that Arthur was _his_ , gave Merlin a thrill he couldn't deny.

"I love you," Arthur murmured softly. Merlin simply squeezed his hand in response. The flash of hurt in Arthur's eyes was brief, but Merlin saw it all the same. It made his chest feel tight. He couldn't fall in love with the prince, he just couldn't. He couldn't open his heart up to inevitable heartbreak. Because even if Arthur were to love Merlin with every fibre of his being it would never be enough. Not for the United Kingdom and Commonwealth and certainly not enough for Uther. While it lasted it was amazing, but Merlin knew it had to end eventually. There was a reason Merlin and Arthur's great secret had been kept out of the press and as much as he was grateful for the continued anonymity, he _knew_ it was for Arthur's sake rather than his own. And giving in to those three little words would just be too much for Merlin to ever recover from. It was too late to stop himself feeling them, but if he could just keep them to himself then maybe, just maybe, the inevitable heartache would be that bit easier to bear, knowing he hadn't quite given Arthur everything.

The pain must have showed on his face as the prince brought their clasped hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Merlin's fingers, concern creasing his brow.

"Are you alright, my love? If you don't feel too well we can get this food boxed up and eat it in bed at the house or just leave it altogether."

Terms of endearment were a new thing between them, and Merlin couldn't help the hammering of his heart at the possessiveness of 'my love'.

"I'm fine," he lied, "just a bit tired and hungry. Food will perk me up."

Arthur wasn't convinced, but he let it slide knowing he could question Merlin more thoroughly when they were alone. This was supposed to be a romantic weekend for the two of them and he was determined that Merlin enjoy himself in one of the most romantic and beautiful parts of the world.

Their food and two large glasses of white wine arrived then, forcing Arthur to drop Merlin's hand in favour of his knife. Merlin took a fortifying gulp of the crisp white wine and looked down at what Arthur had ordered. He hated to admit it, but Arthur was right. His shallow bowl was full of seafood pasta of some kind with an incredibly creamy looking white sauce. It looked absolutely delicious and was indeed a dish he ate back at home, often.

"Don't worry about all the calories, we can burn them off later."

Arthur winked before turning his attention to the perfectly cooked slices of fish on his own plate. Merlin felt his blush creeping up his neck and took yet another gulp of wine to try and cool himself down. With his first forkful of pasta he found the wine was perfectly matched to his food. He reached across for a sip of Arthur's wine and found it to be slightly different in taste, no doubt to match his own food.

"Such a posh twit, matching each wine to our own dish."

Arthur looked smug,

"I can't help my upbringing." He eyed Merlin's glass, "you'll be requiring the bottle at the rate your downing yours." He laughed, his full laugh that crinkled his eyes and showed his slightly crooked teeth. It was so genuine and carefree, Merlin's heart burned with love.

"Shut up," he muttered, bringing another delicious forkful of pasta to his mouth, letting the flavours dance across his tongue as the sauce melted over it.

"So," a mouthful of food suspended on his fork, "how is everyone in London?"

Arthur laughed again,

"Merlin, is this your terrible attempt at small talk? Am I really that boring?"

"No," he protested through a full mouth. He swallowed. "I really want to know. I haven't seen them in what feels like ages. Mum is refusing to let me go up to London, insisting she wants to spend as much time with me as she can before I'm back at Cambridge for almost three months. I'm surprised she let you whisk me away this morning."

"Not even your mother can refuse the demands of the Prince of Wales!"

"I'm not sure she even wanted to. She completely head over heels for you."

"Good." _I wish her son was too,_ he couldn't help but think. "But everyone is fine. Gwen has all but moved into Lance's tiny studio flat so Morgana has lost her favourite plaything. She's turned on me instead. She's been insisting I have tea with her almost daily. I don't understand how someone as grand and sociable as my sister can have no one better to torture. But I think you're next on her list. When she found out I was taking you away this weekend, and I still have no idea how she found out because the only people that know are the two bodyguards at the hotel down the road and the pilot of the jet. Even my father doesn't know _where_ I am this weekend, just that I'm abroad. But she found out, maybe I should start wiping my internet history, and insisted we go shopping together for a holiday wardrobe for you. Those suitcases I dragged inside are full of clothes and, knowing her, sex toys for you this weekend. I think she literally planned an outfit for every eventuality from a lazy day in bed all the way down to a costume party. And she tried to take me for a hair appointment! Said she wanted to put lemon juice in my hair so the Italian sun would bring out my highlights or something. I've never heard something so stupid."

Merlin smiled into his knife, Arthur in full on rant mode was always a sight to behold and he knew it meant he was at ease and hopefully had forgotten Merlin's quietness earlier.

"I'll have to thank her."

"Don't you bloody dare," Arthur pointed his knife at Merlin, "don't give her any reason to try and do this again.

Merlin just smiled in a way he hoped was enigmatic and turned his attention back to his food.

 

Soon enough they had finished, even the fresh bread Arthur had ordered especially so Merlin could mop up every bit of his pasta sauce, Arthur looking on smugly in the knowledge that he had absolutely nailed it with his ordering. Their plates were cleared and a tiny glass of yellow liquid was placed in front of each of them. Merlin assumed this was the famed limoncello.

"To cleanse the palette."

He threw the liquor back with no problem. Merlin picked up his glass and sniffed at it. The lemony smell was sickly sweet.

"Just down it you big girls blouse. I'm sure it's nothing worse than anything you had in freshers week."

That was certainly true, but he was under no illusions as to how much of a lightweight he was and his fingers and toes were already tingling from the two glasses of wine he'd had with dinner. He wanted to be sober when they christened the four poster bed he'd spied earlier while changing. He gingerly picked up the glass, squeezed his eyes shut and tipped the liquid down his throat. And coughed. It tasted like a syrupy vodka as it burned down his throat. Arthur gave him a long suffering look and put his Euros out on the table to pay for the mean before standing up. Merlin looked up at him.

"Pudding?" He asked with a childlike innocence.

"Gelato sound alright?"

"Oh my god, yes!" He practically leapt out of his seat, following Arthur out of the restaurant and onto the street. The Italian sun was sitting low in the sky as Arthur put his arm around Merlin's waist to pull him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Merlin had never really seen this romantic side of Arthur before. Caring and sentimental, yes but this was just pure romance. Merlin had never felt so wanted and loved; Arthur had thought of all of this for him and it was making him feel beyond special.

As they walked Arthur kept his arm firmly around Merlin's waist. He slipped his hand under Merlin's shirt. He could feel the warmth from Arthur's palm spreading over his back. Merlin snuggled closer, tucking his hand into Arthur's back pocket, following his lead.

"You're really touchy feely today."

"Hmm. This is how I want to be with you all the time, I can't ever get enough of you. But the great British press makes it hard for me to act like this. If it were up to me I'd always have my arm around you or your hand in mine. I'd want everyone to have no doubt that you're my boyfriend and not just an acquaintance. Love, especially early love, should be all about fun and spending as much time together as possible. But I can't do it that way. Being the Prince of Wales is my _job_ and as such it would be unprofessional for me to be seen acting as a fool crazy in love, it's not the way the British public do it. My father's got it right, a stiff upper lip. The public seem to like it. It was easy with **Eleanor** because she knew what was expected of her, and I never loved her so there was never anything for me to have to suppress. And here in Italy I don't _have_ to suppress anything; I can just be Arthur, a guy who's in love exactly the way I want to be.

Christ Merlin, I don't want to go back. Who needs the crown when I could have all this with you?"

They stopped walking so Arthur could use his free arm to pull Merlin into a searing kiss. Merlin pushed his fingers through blonde hair to pull his closer. As it became dizzying, Merlin pulled back with a gasp and buried his face in Arthur's neck.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes," he pulled Merlin back to look him straight in the eye, "I do."

"No," Merlin collapsed back against his neck unable to bear the weight of the Prince's gaze, "you don't. You may love me but you love your country more. You've grown up your whole life knowing your duty and what's expected of you. As much as you may resent it sometimes I know you don't have it in you to turn your back on your duty, your country and your family."

"Maybe I want to make some additions to my family," he muttered into dark hair.

"What?" Merlin looked up.

"Nothing."

Arthur looked over Merlin's shoulder to a small gate tucked into the corner of the street that ran along behind a cliff face. He smiled at Merlin mischievously and turned his back to Merlin. "Hop on."

"What? You utter clotpole."

"Get on my back you idiot. The steps down to the bay are narrow and you are the clumsiest person I have ever met. I'm not having your broken bones on my conscience!"  

Merlin peered over the wrought iron gate to the narrow stone steps carved into the cliff. From the top he couldn't see the bottom.

"My entire weight on your back seems even more dangerous though."

"What weight? Merlin you're all skin and bones. Morgana desperately wants to fatten you up with cream teas. Come on."

Merlin skipped out of his reach with surprising grace.

"See, I'm sure on my feet!"

He proceeded to trip off the edge of the pavement.

"See!"

"Don't you dare gloat." Arthur bent down to let Merlin jump onto his back. "And don't you dare drop me!"

Arthur stood up, adjusting to Merlin's weight draped across his back.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He pushed open the gate and started galloping down the steps with Merlin screaming in his ear. He tightened his arms over Arthur's shoulders and squeezed his legs around his hips. If he wasn't clinging on for dear life he'd probably be incredibly turned on at the thought of completely covering Arthur. He couldn't deny it was fun though, in a childish sort of way. He felt as if he were a teenager in the throws of puppy love. He could understand what Arthur meant about wanting to just enjoy being young and in love. They reached the bottom of the small steps in a few minutes and Arthur jumped the last couple of steps and Merlin let out a particularly girly scream that he was not proud of. But he didn't let him down off his back at the bottom. There was a small open, concreted area that looked out onto the bay just metres below. The sun was dipping below the water line on the horizon, casting a pinkish hue across the bay. Arthur kept walking to another, smaller set of steps. Here he let Merlin down as several stray cats and their kittens flocked to their ankles. Merlin dropped to his knees and started cooing at them, rubbing under their chins as they purred.

"They're so sweet. I don't think I've ever seen kittens this small. Aren't they precious." One scrambled up his leg and into his lap. He curled his body around it protectively.

"How can they be strays? I can't believe people can walk past and just leave this cats to fend for themselves."

"Well, the locals put out pieces of diced fish for them hence why they're so tame. I hardly think they're struggling, they just can't be tied down. Lots of people are just the same!"

"I know, but they're so tiny. I wish I could take them all home and fatten them up."

"Sounds like someone else I know! Come on, I thought you wanted Italian ice-cream?"

Reluctantly Merlin stood up, looking longingly at the cats over his shoulder. He made a silent vow to return to see them again before he left. He took Arthur's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to a small stall with more flavours of ice cream than he had ever seen.

"I suppose you're going to order for me again?"

Arthur rattled something off in Italian and before he knew it Merlin had a large cone of white chocolate in his hand and was leaning towards Arthur to taste his Nutella one. They kept walking, past a row of small yachts and on to a very small patch of sand. Too small really to call it a beach. The pink light over the sand made it look like a little secluded spot on a tropical island as the waves lapped at the sand. Arthur kicked off his shoes, rolled up his jeans and waded into the shallow water calling for Merlin to join him. Which he did, kicking water at Arthur's shins as he went. A water fight of sorts ensued, Merlin trying desperately to protect his gelato. Arthur retreated and collapsed on the sand to lick his, watching as Merlin moved through the water with far more grace than he hand on land. He was in a world of his own, almost dancing in the waves. Arthur wished he had a camera to capture his ethereal beauty against the Italian sunset. He could only guess at what his boyfriend was thinking.

Eventually Merlin joined him on the sand, curling into his side. Arthur captured his hand to lick the sweet remnants of ice cream from his fingers. They lay together in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink below the horizon and the colours of the sky change. In the end it was Arthur who broke the silence,

"Do you love me?" he asked bluntly, "because if you don't I'd rather you said so now."

Merlin froze, not expecting such a direct question in such a peaceful moment. A question he didn't have an answer for.

"Can you see a future with me? Do you want to share the future with me? Because if it's all too much I can't go on and make it harder for myself when you decide you can't handle the pressure of public life and back out."

"When _I_ back out? I'm just waiting for the day you have to let me go and find a nice noble woman you can marry and who can give you the royal heirs you need. It's your job after all. I know in my heart how I feel but I can't give into it knowing it will make it that much harder when you have to fulfil your duty."

"Merlin," Arthur turned in his arms to face him properly, "I gave you my royal ring. Isn't that some indication of how much I love you, how much I want you in my life and will fight for it."

"But... but you said all your friends have your seal in some form."

"But none of them have my ring. It was intended to be recast into a wedding ring for my wife, that's the tradition. That I gave it to you speaks volumes, I thought you knew that? It's hardly a royal secret."

"I'm not exactly a royalist and I'm not sure mum has quite noticed the ring; I tend to keep it as something private."

"Merlin, it was too early for me to think about proposing to you but giving you my ring was the next best thing. In American tradition I suppose you would call it a promise ring, showing my intention to propose." He reached to pick up the hand that was wearing the ring in question and pressed a kiss to you. "If you were under any indication that I intend to end things with you at some point, let me put you right. I don't care what my father or even the British public have to say on the matter, I am determined to spend the rest of my life with you. If you'll let me. I refuse to take the throne if I can't do it knowing I am being completely honest with everyone, and that includes my sexuality. Most importantly my sexuality, and the man in my life that comes with it. Which would be you. I have never met anyone who stood up to me like you do, Morgana doesn't count! And I don't think I'll ever meet anyone who can make me feel like just another guy. I know it's not what most men want but it's all I've ever wanted. I've accepted my public life, but I want to know that I can come home at the end of a day of meeting and greeting people and prime ministers to someone who isn't going to treat me like a king, to someone that loves me for all my faults not who's married me despite my faults. So, do you love me?"

Merlin knew the answer, he'd known it for longer than he'd been able to admit.

"But what about Uther?"

"He'll hate it, I'm under no illusions that he'll welcome you to the family with open arms, but there's nothing he wants more than for me to take the throne when he dies and if this is the only way I'll do that he'll have no choice but to accept you. I know it's unconventional, but it's not impossible to become king as an unmarried man. And same sex marriage is becoming more and more common now anyway. Kings have died without heirs and the monarchy has gone on anyway. I want to do my country and my family proud, but more than that I want to be happy. And you make me happier than I think I've ever been. Even if you decide down the line that the public life isn't for you, I'll still come out before I take the throne. Honesty means something to me, and that means being honest to myself.

"Then yes."

"Yes?"

"I love you. I've loved you for a lot longer than I've been willing to admit." He ducked his head as a bubble of emotion lodged in his throat.

"That's it?! I pour out my heart, tell you my hopes for the future, that I liked it so I put a ring on it and that's all you have to say?"

"Arthur," he rolled his eyes as he was prone to do when around Arthur," 'yes' can be a powerful word. It's quality not quantity and it's the only word you really needed to hear. Besides, it was you who was raised to make speeches while I'm still too scared to make direct eye contact with some of my professors at uni."

They curled up even closer, Arthur burying is face in Merlin's soft hair.

"When will you tell the king?" Arthur could hear the sleepiness seeping into Merlin's speech.

"Soon, I promise." He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's head, "really soon. Just let everyone settle into my official duties as Prince of Wales and then I'll tell him. But first I'll have to work out it it's best to break it to him bit by bit over time and build up to you specifically, or just do it like ripping off a plaster: all in one go and damn the consequences."

"Hmm, I don't much care as long as he doesn't send armed guards after me."

Arthur chucked and tilted his head to capture Merlin's surprisingly soft lips between his own.

 

Hidden behind a rack of beach bags at one of the sea front shops still open in the hopes of a few evening tourists wandering past, a man raised the viewfinder of a camera to his right eye. He held his finger down over the shutter, the lens pointed at the couple on the beach, and captured several shots in rapid succession.

As fate would have it, it seemed, Arthur wouldn't necessarily be afforded the luxury of coming out in person before his father found out. But, in that moment, all he cared about was his arms wrapped around the man he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find endings so bloody hard to write! They're never satisfying.  
> But this isn't exactly an ending as I have a sequel/epilogue planned. I think it'll just be a monster one shot. And if anyone has anything they want to see from this 'verse prompt me, either here or on Tumblr where I'm madameberet. I really would like to write some more of this version of characters so prompts are very very much welcome.  
> And now some thanks, a huge thanks to my artist Praeparadigm, my beta the_overlord and the fantastic community over at LJ!  
> Hx


End file.
